Early Days
by Ghost4
Summary: Now AU - Yet another When Beka met Harper story. But with a twist. Rating for lang. and Harper owies.
1. Early Days: Prologue

Early Days

By: Ghost

Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I don't own 'em, and couldn't afford the medical bills, let alone the spare ship parts, if I did. 

Notes: This started out as a single scene, just to see if I could write the POV of someone going through a really nasty flashback. It's something that happens all the time in fanfic, and the whole concept just makes me shudder. The idea of re-experiencing -- reliving-- something that bad…. Truth was, I didn't know if I could get into a character's mind that way, so I wrote this as an experiment. Then, darnit, Beka had to go and start talking and it sorta started growing.

This is a WIP, and I have a really bad track record-- just so you know. 

Also: this is set pre- Magog world-ship. So let's say…mid-first season. Slight spoilers for 'Harper 2.0'. 

This is my first Andromeda fic, as well as my first fic on FF. Any feedback (good, bad, or indifferent) is more than welcome. Please…? ::flutters eyelashes::

~~*~~

The laser-welder slipped.

Harper stood staring stupidly at his mangled hand, watching the blood flow. A vague thought—_how stupid can you be? _-- had time to flitter across his mind, then the agony hit.

Pain. Fire. Black and red and raw and _massive. _

He was vaguely aware of a strangled cry that made it past his seemingly otherwise frozen system. He dropped the welder and grabbed at his burnt and sliced hand. Tried to breathe against the darkness blooming behind his eyes. Tried, with marginal success, to bite back the scream coming from his throat.

And his thoughts were all flame and chaos and—

__

--pain. fire and acid andstinkofsmokeandvomitandpainpainpain , oh it hurts, please, please no more, hurts --

Vaguely he heard the door slide open. "Harper? What is wrong?" 

__

Pain. Burning. Like acid in his hand. Ah, fuck, it hurts… His knees gave out, and he pitched back into the wall. Slid down until he was sitting.

"Harper, I heard your cry two halls down. What has happened?"

Eyes squeezed shut, ears filled with his own desperate keening, Harper didn't hear the concerned tone; didn't see the worried eyes. He only smelled the heavy musk of an alien pelt. Smelled the trace of acid and paralytic poison, sour on the too hot breath that was suddenly *much * too close…

__

Them. itsthemandimcoughtohgodohgodihurtnonononono…

"No…" A low gasp. A prayer. A moan of loss and defiance. Trying, trying desperately to fight back the mental images that threatened to carry him away… 

"Harper! You're bleeding!"

__

No shit. He had time to think, then a three digit hand snatched at him. Scaly palm, long claws, yellowed with age and use. _nonononono DON'T TOUCH ME!_

He struck out, twisting the hand with his good one and lashing out with a foot, catching the monster in the thigh. Satisfaction when it cried out, part yelp, part growl.

"Don't. touch. me." He hissed. He pulled himself into a ball, cradling his hand, rocking slightly.

"Harper, I only wish to help…" 

Harper pulled in tighter, unaware that he was growling instead of keening now. _Stay away stay away…_

The figure backed off, hands held up in a soothing way. "All right, Harper. I won't come near you anymore." It moved to the wall and hit the comm. port with one thick claw. 

"Rev Bem to bridge. Beka, we have a problem. Harper is hurt, and he won't let me get near him. He needs you down here."

Harper felt his eyes try to close. Snapped them open. Beka was here. Beka was coming. She was safe. One of the few he truly trusted. When she got here she'd blast this mother-fucker into quark particles. He'd be safe then. He could rest then. 

He heard the beast move and watched him as he stepped further away, toward the door. Harper relaxed slightly, watching with clouded, dazed eyes.

__

Hurry. Beka, please. 'cos I hurt and I'm so so tired, and I can't sleep not with the beast standing right there even though I know it's Rev Bem but he *smells* like them Bek, and all I can smell is blood and pain and is there acid on my hand 'cos I think there is and I *hurt* and I don't want to get lost like this so please please come and get me Beka please don't leave me here 'cos I'm *not* good, I'm *not*…

His body rocked in rhythm to his frantic thoughts, his breath coming in rough gasps.

He wasn't aware that his eyes had closed until the sound of the door opening caused them to snap open. Three shapes came through, not hesitating at the sight of the beast. One of them had arm spurs.

__

Enemy. 

He whimpered soundlessly as they joined the beast. 

"Over there, Beka. Hurry. There is too much blood, I think." Rough voice. The beast.

A shape passed the alien without a second glance and moved toward him.

"Ah, hell. I think he's hit an artery." Soft voice, familiar and safe. 

He could barely see past the pain and the odd dimness in his eyes.

__

Who? Beast? Enemy? No…

"Harper?" She hesitated as he growled in uncertainty. "Rev, What…? Oh God, he's flashing?" She spoke to the others and he found himself growing relived as he placed the voice. Beka.

The shadowy form moved in closer and he flinched. _Beka. _He forced himself to remember_. Beka. Not the beast. Not the enemy. Not._

"Harper? C'mon, Seamus, it's okay. You're okay. Work with me here."

He slowly forced his eyes to see what was actually there. Blue. Bright and concerned. Beka. Beka's eyes. Beka's voice. Beka. Beka meant now. Beka meant safety. Beka meant sanity. …

"Beka?" he whispered hoarsely. 

"Yeah, Seamus. You back with us?" Her tone was edgy, frightened. _For me?_ he wondered confusedly. For the first time she reached out for him, one hand stroking his shoulder and arm, the other reaching down… "Seamus?" The concern was back. He realized that he hadn't answered her.

"I'm here. I'm good." He pulled in a shuddering breath and tried to straighten up, but his body was shaking too hard. "I'm good. I'm okay—" he gulped in air, shaking harder, not sure if he was trying to convince Beka or himself, unaware that the words had run together in a panicked, breathy chant. "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm good—"

"Harper!" Beka broke in, before he could get lost again. "You're bleeding. That's not good, kiddo." He looked down and saw her hand pinching his wrist, slowing the blood flow. She had his blood on her hands and shirt. He weakly tugged against her grip.

"Bek—" he swallowed against a dry throat and tried again. "Beka, you're gonna ruin your clothes." 

She grinned at him. "Better'en ruining my resident engineer." She stood up slowly, drawing him up with her.

"Your res—resident genius." He corrected, watching his hand bleed, but not feeling it. It could have been attached to someone else's body. Other then it was shaking just as hard as he was. Why was he shaking?

"Genius? I think you're deeper in shock then I thought." She looked away, talking to someone outside his field of vision. "No, Rev. You'd better hand that to… yeah. Dylan, it should be okay for you to come up now…. No, Tyr! Just go tell Trance to get med…"

He lost track of the words. It was too hard to focus on them. Instead he just listened to the tone—commanding and worried, and frightened and holding it back. He looked away from their clasped hands and brought his good hand up to her cheek. And why the hell was it shaking so badly? He'd never get the damned coolant pipe fixed if he couldn't keep his hands steady…

She looked up at his touch. Eyes all for him. 

"Don't worry 'bout me, Boss, it's just a flesh wound." 

She blinked. Then laughed, eyes suddenly bright with memory. "You know, it's never a good thing when you say that, Harper." Her eyes fell back to their hands, and Harper saw that she was holding his wrist so tightly he could see her knuckles had gone white under the blood, which was still flowing pretty freely despite her pressure.

Something soft and warm was draped over his shoulders. Instinctively he pulled it closer with his good hand. When he fumbled another set of hands caught the blanket and settled it more firmly around him. He blinked owlishly at Dylan. "Hey, bossman. I think it's gonna be awhile 'til I get that feed-line installed."

Hunt didn't smile. He simply nodded and said, "It's not a problem, Mister Harper. Don't worry about it right now. Now we need to get you to medical. Can you walk?"

What? Walk? And go where? Didn't he have a coolant pipe to mend? Why did Beka and Dylan want him to go for a walk? And why the hell was it so cold in here? His teeth started to chatter as Beka and Dylan got him moving. Maybe the thermal regulators were out. Used to happen all the time on the Maru. Maybe that's what Beka and Dylan wanted him to fix. Sorry, but he couldn't do it right now. It was too cold, and he was way too tired… and hadn't he been bleeding?

They had made it to the hall, Beka encouraging him from his front and Dylan at his back, when he glanced down to see if he was still bleeding. 

He was. Profusely. All over a good blanket. "Ah, shit. No. Beka, it's g-gonna be ruined." 

She took one look at the problem, then shushed him, still guiding him down the hall, still barring down on his wrist. "Shh, Harper. It's fine. No problem. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"What's he think is going to get ruined?" Dylan's voice, spoken over his head.

Beka grimaced. He saw it. "The blanket." She answered over his shoulder. "He's upset because he's bleeding all over it."

"He's upset because he's getting blood on a blanket?" Dylan's asked, obviously confused.

"Blankets are hard to come by in most of the places he's lived," Beka said, impatiently. "Drop it." 

Dylan nodded, and kept his mouth shut. 

Harper chuckled.

"What?" Beka asked, glancing up from their joined hands to smile at him.

"Th-think you scared him, Boss." 

She grinned. "Do ya?"

"Ye-yeah." He shuddered. "That tone could send, send Tyr running." 

"Well then, maybe I should practice it."

"No n-need," he said, "You practice it enough on me. Man, it's cold in here."

Dylan squeezed his shoulders. "It's not cold, Harper. You're going into shock."

"Oh." Shock? Whatever. He shuddered again, and this time his vision went gray. "I'll fix the heat next, bossman."

He sensed another one of *those* glances pass over his head. 

"That's fine, Harper. No rush."

"Good. 'Cos I'm not feelin' so hot." He stumbled as his legs gave out, and blackness rushed in. "Sorry." He managed to whisper as Dylan caught him before he could fall. He doubted that they heard him over Dylan's shout for Tyr, though.

Hands grabbed for him, and as he passed out, his last thought was that Beka would be pissed that he hadn't made it to med-deck first.

_________________________________________________

The boy on the bed lay very still. 

He was so pale that he appeared gray against the copper colored sheets. Except for the PIV lines inserted just under his collarbone, and the deep, even breathing, he could have been a corpse. 

Beka ran a hand, still stained with dried blood, over her face, and sat up straighter in her chair next to Harper's bed.

It had been so damned close this time. It had been a good thing that when he finally gave in and fainted from blood loss, he had been in the hall just outside med-deck; because, by that point, he had barely enough blood in him to keep his brain functioning. 

His stitched hand lay at his side, swathed in medical foam to keep it stable for now. Trance's rough sewing had done a good job of closing the severed artery and stopping the bleeding. But there was little that she could do to mend the tendons, bones, and burned flesh. Dylan had all ready made arrangements to meet with a surgeon at Verga. The man had been sent the scans Trace had done of the wound, and had assured them that he could repair the damage -- for a not so modest fee, of course.

Trance had told her that Dylan hadn't even blinked at the amount. Hadn't hesitated. Just agreed and made the appointment for Harper.

It was a weird thought; one of her crew needed outside medical attention, and she wasn't scrambling to scrounge up enough ready cash to buy it. She wasn't plotting the route to Verga and attempting to find a last minute hauling job for cash. Wasn't contacting anyone and everyone involved in the black market to see if there was any jobs waiting for them when they arrived. Wasn't disparately haggling with the doctors, trying to find a balance between what her people needed and what she could afford to pay for. Wasn't struggling to keep her rag-tag crew alive until the Maru could get them there.

And it made her anxious, not knowing just how much the surgeon would cost, or what exactly Dylan had in mind to trade to get the money, or if they would be beholden to Hunt for providing him.

Or if Harper would come out of the other side whole, and with a working hand.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, trying to let the worry and fear go for now.

But it was hard. She'd never had the money to just… not fret about things like this, before. It had always been hand-to-mouth for her. 

It was so different. So different from when she had just inherited the Maru. Back when it was early days and she was struggling to find a way to make an honest living, knowing *exactly* what the cost of a dishonest one was.

Harper would understand. He had been there, almost from the beginning. He knew what those first years on the Maru were like. Knew what it was to not have any room to maneuver; to be surviving from one job to the next, fighting with the competition for them-- sometimes literally.

Maybe it was just the whole situation that was making her think about those desperate days. 

She had spent the morning playing trade host with the Perseid, trying to make a half-ton of three-hundred-year-old scrap circuits look like they were worth something. Smiling, conning. All the tricks of a scavengers trade. Then getting the call from Rev, and finding Harper stuck in a flashback. --He had had a lot of those when she first met him. They were less frequent now, and they seemed to be weaker. Or at least he broke out of them faster now. 

Or maybe it was just sitting here, next to an unconscience Harper, her clothes stained with his blood, and worrying about finding a surgeon, that was making her nostalgic. Her own kind of flashback.

After all, wasn't this almost the same position she had been in when she decided to take the boy on? 

Her first real crew member. Oh, there had been a few others in the months before she met Harper, but no one who had a long-term exclusive contract with her. Even Tev, although she had been with her awhile, had been a free agent. Harper had been the first to sign with the Maru; the first to sign with her. The first to take his chances with a rusty old ship, and a captain who was so new to the job that she still squeaked around the edges.

"Beka?" Dylan's voice. She hadn't realized he was in the room.

She turned and smiled at him. "Hey."

"How's he doing?" Dylan moved over to the bed.

She shrugged. "Okay, considering. Sleeping. I think Trance gave him enough sedative to down a pissed off Kless'o Lion."

Dylan smiled tightly, turning his attention to her. She watched him look her over.

"You should really go get cleaned up, Beka. He's going to be fine; you don't need to sit with him." Dylan spoke in the hushed tones everyone seemed to use around injured people.

"I know." She answered. "I just… don't want to leave right now."

Dylan sighed. "Trance could stay with him for awhile. Or Rev Bem."

Beka shook her head. "Trance is trying to rig an air flow system around that broken pipe. With a hammer, which Harper is just going to *love* when he's up and about. And I really don't think the Rev is a good choice right now."

Dylan nodded slowly, looking confused… hesitant.

She sighed tiredly. "What?"

He looked at Harper again. "What…what was that with Rev Bem? What happened to him?"

She rubbed at her dry eyes. "That was a flashback." She had been expecting this conversation, and had not been looking forward to it. "I know you have a general idea of what earth is like now. Well, Harper spent a lot of years there, and sometimes the things he's seen and done…they sort of overwhelm him and he gets…a little lost." 

"Like those times just after the Perseid downloaded into him?"

She nodded.

"I thought the attacks were caused by his being…overloaded. Well, that and the files from Brandonburg Tor."

"It wasn't. At least, it wasn't *just* the files; although they didn't help." She sighed. "You know, it had nearly been a year since his last one before we saved that damned Perseid."

She couldn't help the guilt that welled up every time she thought of that whole mess. It had been her decisions straight down the line; she'd told Harper to bring the pod into the bay; she'd told him to open it—she'd even told Harper to get close enough to the Perseid to clean his head wound, for god's sake. 

And Harper had paid for her act of charity. By getting his mind overloaded with information, and almost having that same information ripped away by a bounty hunter with interesting tastes in torture. Not to mention the horrific nightmares and viscous flashbacks. Oh yeah, it had been a real thrill ride for her engineer.

"Did it happen often? The flashbacks?"

The compassionate tone didn't fool her one bit, she knew what this was. This was a Captain looking for weaknesses in his crew. Looking for flaws; rooting out things that could put the ship in danger.

She recognized it because she had done it often enough herself.

"No. It wasn't often. It just… happened sometimes. Usually when he was overworked and stressed out and way too tired. Or when he was getting sick. Then, sometimes, something would get to him – he'd hear a noise, or catch a smell—and whamo, he be gone. He was always embarrassed as hell when he came around." 

Dylan nodded again, looking at the figure in the bed with sympathy. "PTSD."

"What?"

"'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder'. It's a human aliment. Something that happens when you go through something very bad. Even a mild case can leave you stressed and irritable. In more severe cases it can cause nightmares, anxiety, and flashbacks like you've described."

She blinked. It was a common thing, in this day and age. She didn't know many who *didn't* have a few monsters hiding in the back of their minds. But it was odd to think that it had a name. "Well, that certainly fits our Harper." A cautious hope bloomed. The kid didn't deserve to live like this. "Was there a cure?"

Dylan snorted ruefully. "Time. Distance. And a lot of really cheep alcohol."

Fledgling hopes died. "Ah. So the traditional methods were applied."

"Yep. With about the same results."

He spoke with an almost personal authority. She wondered if this was a slipstream he had traveled himself. Or if someone close to him had. 

"So I guess even the blessed commonwealth didn't have all the answers, huh?" She was surprised by the slight bitterness in her tone.

Dylan wasn't. "No. Not even close." He stretched, rolling his head on shoulders that had become noticeably tight. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. I suggest that you do the same."

She knew it was more than a suggestion-- or would have been, if this was still a commonwealth ship and he hadn't learned that he couldn't just order his 'crew' about like puppets.

"Give me another hour or so, then I'll head that way. I couldn't rest right now, anyway."

He nodded, accepting the compromise. And she was relieved, because she was really too tired to argue tonight. 

Then again, he probably was too.

Dylan stepped up and took a long look at Harper. Just stared at the boy. 

Then muttered: "He's going to be fine. We'll see to it." 

His eyes met hers briefly, an unspoken assurance. Then he was gone, moving quietly out of the room.

__

Captain Dylan Hunt Esq. is on the case, all lesser beings beware.

She snickered. Her thought, but it was Harper's voice.

Divinity, she was tired. 

But he was right. Seamus would be fine. *She* would see to it. She owed him. 

She leaned back in her chair, listening to the steady breathing, and drifted, lost in the past—the year she had inherited a broken-down ship, a bunch of debts, a shit load of family enemies… and a quest. A quest she and a boy had held in common. 

The slave-boy and the pirate Queen… it could almost be a fairy-tale. 

For a very warped child.

~~*~~


	2. Early Days: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, and if I did, what they say is going to happen on the show would *not* happen. 

Notes: The song that shows up in here is "Turn Out The Light" by Nelly Furtado. Again, I don't own it, and make no claims on it. I can't even play a radio well…

Again, any feed back is more than welcome. Please…? ::flutters eyelashes::

~~*~~

It was her favorite bar in this sector. 

The color schemes were a mix of rust reds, deep blues, and soft grays. The atmosphere was relaxed; beings stood around tall tables, or sat in dim booths, chatting easily. There was a place to dance, and though it was still relatively early a few had already gotten onto the platform. Most importantly to her though, the music that came from the tastefully hidden speakers was a generous mix of modern sounds and ancient songs—mostly R&B stuff from Earth. 

A twenty-three year old Rebekka Valentine was sitting at the bar, nursing a ginger-ale. It was her normal drink. The color made most people think she was drinking something stronger, though it was a well known secret that Beka never touched liquor. Too many addicts in her family; too many wasted lives. She had no wish to fall into that trap, so she never drank anything harder than soda-pop. 

Though tonight part of her wanted to make an exception. She had just finished a run from Timberline station to the colony on Jo'cose by herself; and she *never* wanted to do it again. Oh, the pay was good enough, but four solar months with no one to talk to, no one to help keep the ship up… even at that pay-scale, it hadn't been worth it. 

And now a good chunk of her pay would have to go right back into the Maru. The ship, not in the best of shape before making the haul, was on its last legs. She'd had to push it badly just to make it here in order to pick Tev up from the job she had been working the last six-months. If Tev still wanted to be picked up, that was.

Sighing, Beka shook back her thick, longish, black hair. It had been jet black for almost a year; she had triggered the nono-bots and turned it the moment her father died. It was the only external mark of mourning she had ever made.

She needed to find someone to work on the ship. She had to have it in condition if she was going to get a job. In truth, she really wanted to supe it up a bit—with just a few enhancements she could start using the Maru for salvage work. There was good money in salvage, especially if a person knew enough not to ask too many questions.

There were times she despaired of ever having enough to get even that far. Sometimes, laying in her berth, the darkness so thick she felt like she was inhaling it, cold sapping at her because there was no money to fix the heating unit *again*, listening to dust hiss and tap against the outer hull like the quiet knocking of the dead… sometimes she knew she would never make it. Then morning would come, and she would tell herself that it would be okay. It was still early days, and she was still getting herself on her feet. Eventually she would be financially secure. Eventually.

Right.

The song switched over, a low, heavy beat, overlaid by an acoustic guitar. Earther music. You could tell from the beat, even before the human voice started singing the lyrics.

__
    
    It's getting so lonely inside this bed

Don't know if I should lick my wounds or say woe is me instead

She'd been on her own for almost a year now. Her father had been all she'd had left to call family. Her brother had taken off years ago, and her 'uncle' had disappeared with so many of the others when she'd declared she wouldn't allow the Maru to be used for drug and weapons running anymore. 

__
    
    And there's an aching inside my head

It's telling me I'm better off alone

Then the jobs had dried up. She was out of the smuggling game-- but the regular employers knew too much of the Eureka Maru's admittedly shady reputation to ever trust her with a hire.

__
    
    
    But after midnight morning will come
    And the day will see if you will get some
    She needed to get the ship fixed. Needed to find work. Needed to know if Tev was still on her hire.
    _They say that girl ya know she acts too tough tough tough
    Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
    _
    --Needed to know why the hell that night-sider across the room was starring at her.
    _
    They say that girl you know she acts so rough rough rough
    Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
    _Ah, bloody hell. He was coming over.
    She turned her back to him, deliberate insult, focusing on her drink, sending out all the discouragement she could manage.
    _
    And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down
    till' you see all my dreams
    Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems
    _He came up to the bar next to her and perched sideways, watching her.
    "Hello, there," he said. He grinned, displaying sharpish, brownish teeth.
    _
    I looked above the other day
    Cuz I think I'm good and ready for a change
    _"Oh, please," she muttered, draining the rest of her soda. "Look, I'm not interested. Ever. Okay?"
    _
    I live my life by the moon
    If it's high play it low, if it's harvest go slow and if it's full, then go…
    _His muzzle pulled back in a gesture that could have been either a smile or a snarl—she couldn't tell which. "Don't be so quick to judge, Miss Valentine."
    _They say that girl ya know she acts too tough tough tough
    Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
    _She controlled the involuntary jerk, and hoped she kept the surprise off of her face. "Who the fuck are you, and how do you know my name?" She hissed, hand moving to the weapon strapped to her hip, movement hidden under the bar.
    _
    They say that girl you know she acts so rough rough rough
    Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
    _He gave her a smile, pinprick black eyes catching a brief shimmer off of the red neon above the bar. "Hold on there, Honey. I have a proposition for you."
    _
    And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down
    _She pulled the gun, reaching across her own body to wedge the muzzle into his side. Had the satisfaction of seeing his startled wince.
    _
    Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems
    _"First thing. It's *Captain* Valentine. Got it?" As the cretan hastily nodded, she swallowed. It was the first time she had ever claimed the title-- her father had always been Captain Valentine. "Second thing, I don't like you. I don't like night-siders generally, don't like you specifically. I have a headache, I'm very tired, and I would love nothing more than to kill something right now. So, unless you're volunteering for target practice, I suggest you either answer my questions or get the hell outa my air space."
    _
    I'm searching for things that I just cannot see…
    _He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably away from the pressure in his side. She just pushed the gun in further.
    "All right!" he hissed, eyes dancing around the crowd before coming back to her. When he spoke, his voice was so low she had to strain to hear it. "My name's Vixvacule. I represent a small group of… business men who have a come across an…unusual opportunity."
    _
    I pretend to be cool with me, want to believe
    That I can do it on my own without my heart on my sleeve
    _She sat up, re-holstering her gun. She knew this game. Knew it too god-damned well. Had grown up playing it.
    "Look, Vixvacule, I don't 'run' anymore. The Maru got out of that game when my father died. So, thanks for the offer, but I'm really not interested."
    The Night-sider just waited her out, a knowing smirk on his face, his black nose almost twitching.
    "Ah, but you will be," he reached – slowly, as he saw her hand move toward her gun—for his bag, and pulled out a flexy. "You can't afford not to be."
    He tossed it onto the bar in front of her. It sat there like a gauntlet.
    _I'm running, I'm running, catch up with me life…
    _
    "And this is supposed to interest me?"
    The Rat snorted. "Just look it over 'Captain'. I promise you, you'll be… impressed."
    _
    They say that girl ya know she acts too tough tough tough
    Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
    They say that girl you know she acts so rough rough rough
    Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the ligh_t
    Curiosity warred common sense. Oh well, dad had always said she had enough of the former to fill up four cats. She reached for the flexy. Read it carefully, with growing amazement.
    _
    And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down
    till' you see all my dreams
    Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems_

"Do you know what this is?" Beka gazed at the flexy with hungry eyes.

The night-sider smiled, a slow, greasy expression. "If I didn't, do you think I'd be setting here?"

Beka fingered the plans again, and eyed Vixvacule, wondering just how much his 'employers' had told him. How much he understood about these plans. From the smug, careless way he handled the flexy, she guessed not much. 

"So what do you need me for?"

He chuckled, greed glittering in is rodent eyes. "I…*we* need you to get there. It's not *exactly* in a friendly neighborhood. We need a ship that can handle the load. A pilot who won't give out after a couple dozen slips. Someone who knows how to go in quiet and get out fast-- as well as an *associate* with connections, one who knows how to keep her mouth shut. Grapevine says you fit the bill, sweetheart."

She glared at him. His arrogant attitude told her that he also knew she was desperate enough to do it, no questions asked.

And sadly enough, he was right.

She smiled sweetly at the rodent. "For the right price, I can fit almost any bill."

He grinned at that, lips twitching. "So we do have something in common after all, Captain." He signaled to the bar-girl. When she came over he said, "Put the lady's bill on Mr. Keegan's tab." He turned to Beka. "Have another drink. We have a contract to discuss."

~~*~~


	3. Early Days: Chapter 2

Disclamer: I don't own 'em, DO NOT, Not at all. 

Though I'd like to. Maybe. Then again, Dylan's a bit of a whiner, and Tyr would just drive me nuts (no matter how easy he is to look at eg) and Trance would just freak me out…. 

Notes: Um.. nothing really. Cursing. Big surprise there, huh? Thing should start happening by the next chapter, I hope. I'm making this up as I go along. ::grins sheepishly:: 
    
    Again, any feed back is more than welcome. Please...? ::flutters eyelashes::
    (Thanks to Danielle :^) that was nice to find!)
    Okay, moving on now…
      
      
      
    ~~*~~  
      
    
    The ship was her main concern now.
    The contract was beyond generous. It was padded for both in and out slips, as  
     well as a bonus for her 'crew' – which consisted of Tev, if Tev wanted the trip.   
     Hell, they had even added an extra stipend for fuel increases after she had   
    filled the hold with weight.

All of this, even though she had admitted that her ship wasn't in the best of condition, which gave her *no* room to bargain. 'No problem," the rat bastard had said when she pointed this out. "We'll take care of the ship. I told you, the big guys want *you*, Captain. And they'll gladly rebuild the Maru if that's what it takes to get you on the team."

She didn't trust it... but she wanted it. The Divine knew she wanted it.

She walked down the docks, breath misting in the frigid air of the outer hub. The orange glow of the dock-side lighting reflected off the rust pitted walls and gave everything a sickly glow. It was giving her a headache. 

Of course that the headache might also be from stress, she didn't even consider. What did she have to be stressed about? So she was on her way, alone, to meet the 'equipment' specialist for –what she suspected was—the largest organized crime family in this sector, and all she had on her was a pulse pistol and a pocketknife with a screwdriver attachment. And to get there, she was just strolling through the *worst* section of the meanest station this side of Hellport. Nothing to stress over here.

Besides, Valentines did not stress.

She turned down the darker path listed on her directions, and found herself surrounded by long, empty looking warehouses. Well, this just got better and better didn't it.

The door she wanted didn't look any more inviting than the rest of the street. About the only difference between it and the rest of the run down buildings was the flickering lights behind the windows and the squeals and sparks of metal-working from inside.

She swallowed, tossed back her hair, felt for the pistol, and pasted a bored expression on her face. She knocked.

The door opened reviling a face that could have been young and female…under the bruises and grime. "What?"

"Name's Valentine. I'm supposed to see a Mack Tosand…." Who, Beka had picked up through the grape vine, ran the largest shipping port for illegal weapons this side of the Rogert Pulsar. Not a comforting thought.

The girl pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked away, leaving Beka to scramble after her through the dark, hot, ozone tainted halls. As she walked, Beka counted at least two ship hulls, five weapons of mass destruction, and no less than twelve urban assault vehicles—all in various stages of completion. That was just in one small section of the warehouse.

"What is this place?" Beka muttered to herself, awed by the shear amount of firepower hidden in random nooks and crannies. She jumped slightly when the girl answered her.

"Technically, this is a planetary government house for juvenile offenders. The hard cases. Here, they can learn a trade." She smiled sarcastically. She was missing two teeth.

"And unofficially?" 

The creature shrugged. "Everybody knows the families own this rock. Somebody has to make the weapons for the black—"

"Shelly." A voice, cold and hard, came from a dim, open door ahead. "What are you doing?"

'Shelly' fidgeted. "She was at the door, Justin. I knew you and the Fungus were expecting somebody, so I thought—"

Justin stepped into the hall, crowding Shelly. He was no kid. Older than Beka, he was heavily muscled and his eyes were dead. "Don't think."

Shelly shuddered. Nodded.

"Albert is having problems in bay six. Go help."

She darted away, throwing nervous looks back at them.

"Stupid little slut." Justin muttered, then turned those cold eyes on Beka. "Now, who the fuck are you?"

Unlike Shelly, Beka was not cowed. Growing up as the only girl in her family had taught her well, and it took more than just being male and mean to scare her. She rocked back on her heels and rested her hands on her hips—not coincidentally bringing her right hand near her pistol—and smiled into his face. 

"I'm your *client*." She stressed the word, so that he would know just who had to be polite to whom, here.

He looked her up and down in a blatant way. Beka's eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue. Eventually he shrugged and led her through the door he had emerged from. 

It was like walking from night into day. The room was well lit; the air clean, almost fresh. Clean metal paneled the walls and floor. A bank of computers lined one side, a table covered in bits of machinery sat against another. In the center of the room sat a long, low desk—made of what looked like actual wood. Beka didn't know if she had ever seen furniture made of wood before. The farthest wall held equipment lockers. One was open, reviling a stockpile of weapons. Justin quickly crossed the room and firmly closed the locker before turning to a door and knocking politely. Receiving a response, he told Beka to wait, and stepped through.

Beka stood uncomfortably in the cold, metal room. Her fingers itched to rummage, and her mouth almost watered at the thought of the price she could get for the bits of equipment and weapons she could filch from this room. But she didn't move. She knew without a doubt that there was a hidden camera on her. This was test of character. Would she be stupid enough to snatch here and blow the deal… or was she smart enough to keep her hands to herself when it mattered. It was a pass-fail test. If she passed, the deal would be a go. If she failed, she wouldn't leave this place alive.

So she waited, hands firmly in her pockets.

She had been standing long enough to get irritated – another ploy, she knew, to give them an edge in the bargaining – when the door finally opened again. 

She barely controlled the wince as they walked through the door. Justin led the way, followed by two bodyguards who flanked… a person, she thought. Human. Or maybe a really small Gijict. Or possibly a Magog/Perseid crossbreed. It smelled bad enough. 

Then it smiled at her and she knew—those were Human teeth; despite the greenish cast to its fatty skin, or the hair, or the smell, as open sores on it's flesh broke open and wept puss. 

So this was Mack Tosand, lieutenant to the 'Family', controller of the largest source of black-market weapons in the galaxy. And apparently known as 'the Fungus' for good reason.

Beka had heard of this. A weird bacteria, harmless to most species, it feed on the skin of humans like it was candy. It was known as some strange form of the measles. It had a funny name… though she couldn't recall it now. She had never seen anyone with it though. She hoped she never did again.

"Miss Valentine, welcome." His voice was just as sickly and smelly as the rest of him. 

She hid her discomfort and repulsion behind a dark smile. "It's 'Captain', and thank you."

"I stand corrected." He wattled over behind the desk and sat down. "I hear you're in need of some heavy ship repairs, Captain." 

"I'm afraid you hear correctly, Mr. Tosand. And it seems that a mutual acquaintance of ours feel you would be the best to approach with the matter." She deliberately reached into her pocket and proffered a letter to the Fungus. 

He took the letter with a frown, and she stood staring down his guards as he read. She tired to force herself to relax a little, to shift her hand away from her gun.

Eventually he set the flexy aside and just looked at her. It was obvious that he wasn't happy about something.

She fought back the childish impulse to demand 'What?'. Instead she smiled sweetly and complimented the bastard. "Your workshop is most impressive. Even just the little I've seen of it." Her hand was back on her gun.

"Thank you. It seems our, how did you phrase it? 'mutual acquaintance' finds you equally impressive." Bright eyes in that fleshy, sickly face. Intelligent eyes. Mean eyes. And not happy.

"Really?" Beka decided polish was getting her nowhere, so she switched tactics. Swaggering over the few steps and perching on the edge of the desk, though still far enough away to keep from touching him. The Fungus seemed amused. Well, amused was better than pissed, wasn't it?

"Yes indeed." The Fungus shifted in his chair, the odor rising from him almost making Beka gag. "In fact, they say if I wish to continue a business relationship with them, I am to provide you with a small team to first repair your ship… and continue on with you, maintaining the vessel until your contract has expired."

"Really?" 

"Oh yes, and what's more, I am expected to provide these services at cost, with the normal discount that our mutual acquaintance receives. Despite the income I will be deprived of by the loss of my…workers."

Beka swallowed. This was where the really negotiation began, and she planed on getting her own terms. "I can see where you would be…unhappy about those terms. I honestly have no desire to put you out in any way."

He nodded slightly, eyes narrow in his fat face.

"There's no reason for me to deprive you of valuable employees for the three month haul," she continued, "And it will only up my costs to have the weight of another few people in my hold. People who will spend more time getting in my way then helping. So, why don't you just loan me a small repair team—say three or four—and once the Maru is space worthy I'll send them right back, with a small bonus. I really don't want to spend all the cash I've been budgeted on fuel and water for extra people."

Truth was, what she didn't want was a small gang of spies who were owned by her new clients wandering her ship for the whole trip. Taking account of what she loaded… and what she turned over at the end of the job. 

The Fungus looked thoughtful. "Honestly, the way this deal is formatted, I'll loose a considerable amount of money. But I don't want to upset my very good friends and clients. Rest assured, they would be *very* upset if something were to happen to your ship during the trip, and you had no one to help you effect repairs. They would be *quite* put out with me."

"I've been repairing that ship since I was old enough to walk. There won't be a problem I can't handle, especially if I have enough spare parts."

"Granted. Still, while I understand the cost of several extra bodies would be prohibitive to you, Captain, I am under a certain obligation to make sure you have an engineer."

"And I told you, I don't need them."

"Ah, but it is not *your* needs I am thinking about."

She smiled bitterly at the truth of that. "So send me all of them, for the next few months. You loose your profits and I spend the throwns on water. No real sweat off my back." She stood and turned, unconcerned.

Then his hands clenched and he huffed wetly and she knew she had him. The loss of both profits and bribe was too much.

"What if…just as a possibility…I were to supply you with a single worker. He would work the trip with you and one person would not require as much fuel."

That was true. She would save at least two hundred pounds, ship weight. Not inconsiderable. But she would be stuck with a spying, snooping stranger on board. Ick. However, it was likely the best offer she was gonna get. She sighed, and tried to sweeten the deal on her end. "Fine. But I need enough spare parts to keep the ship up with only myself and one other pair of hands. And we split the extra throwns."

He considered her, breath wheezing. Then he leaned forward and grabbed the flexy in a movement so sudden Beka jumped, hand back on her pistol. 

"Done," he said, scribbling with the stylus. "You get one engineer and a supply of parts, and we split the remainder of the fueling cash. Upon your return to this station you will return the engineer to me."

"Agreed." Beka said, surprised at how quickly he had taken the deal, but not worth looking a gift horse in the mouth. She reached over, coming nauseatingly close to the Fungus, to scrawl her signature to the contract.

"Good." He heaved his slowly rotting body to its feet and started back toward the door. "Then if you'll just show yourself out, I'm feeling… fatigued."

"Wait. What about my engineer?"

"We'll send someone along in the morning. Be sure you have the cash ready. Good night, Miss Valentine."

Beka took one look into Justin's eyes, and was only too happy to retreat back into the gloomy workshop.

Back on the street she shuddered, thankful that she had not only survived the interview, but had apparently come out slightly ahead on the deal. The extra throwns would be welcome.

And if the engineer was too…inconvenient…well, there were a lot of accidents that happened on long, dangerous hauls.

~~*~~

Mack Tosand was taking a bath. It was a long, expensive process. Just getting in and out of the tub could take up to ten minutes. Getting out even longer. Still, the Fungus had one every day. The minerals (also expensive) were said to slow the growth of the bacteria in his skin. He had lived longer that he should have, so he thought they probably worked.

"Justin," he called.

"Yes?" Justin walked into the room, carrying a plastic cylinder. 

"Who do you think we should send to the interesting Miss Valentine?"

He shrugged. "Who ever you send isn't likely to come back. Someone disposable. Maybe that little slut Shelly. She's an idiot. No loss."

"No. You're right, Shelly is an idiot. But we need someone with a brain. Someone who can contact the family if our Miss Valentine decides to…alter the arrangements. Someone who can be everywhere and nowhere and can take that junk pile of a ship at a moments notice."

"Who…?" 

The Fungus chuckled, a wet, bubbly sound. "Where is our little Harper?"

Justin blinked. "You can't be serious. Not only is the little freak unpredictable, he hates us. He would never just do as he's told once he gets away."

"People will do *anything* if you offer them the one thing they can't live without." He grimaced, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Is it really wise, though? He'd be worth a small fortune on the open market—"

"Are you questioning me, Justin." Tosand's voice was clam, almost sweet, but sounded deadly in the quiet room. 

"No, sir. Of course not."

The Fungus gestured at him, and Justin offered the cylinder. "Where is the boy, Justin?"

"Solitary. Were he's been ever since we found him stealing parts for that jamming device."

"Ah, yes. See little Shelly has her uses. Without her tattling we would never have known, and all the little children could have run away." He shook the cylinder, Justin wincing away as water and puss flew from the tub. 

Tosand broke open the cylinder it released a cloud of gas that hung around his head. He coughed heavily, then breathed the vapor in again, relaxing as the narcotic drove the now constant pain into the back of his veins. He looked at Justin through heavy lidded eyes. "Bring me the Harper. We will give him his instructions tonight. By tomorrow he'll be ready to slit the girl's throat for just a taste of freedom."

~~*~~


	4. Early Days: Chapter 3

Early Days

By: Ghost

Just a reminder, this is chapter 3.

Disclaimer: Andromeda belongs to Tribune Entertainment (not really, the name is from a Greek myth…sigh I know, I know-- the show does). I'm not making any money from this. Please don't shoot me. 

Notes: I just read over some of the other chapters, and man, do they need edited!! I'm sorry. It's just that the actual writing is going so well right now, I don't want to throw off my momentum. If (when) this is ever finished, rest assured, it will be heavily edited and betaed, and reposed as a single fic (without chapters). 

By the way, anybody interested in being a beta? There's no pay, and the work is killer, but man, gotta love those non-perks. ::sheepish grin:: 

Thanks to Raven, Amelia, Starfish, Parisindy and X. It's nice to know someone's reading it, and possibly enjoying it. :) . Raven, thanks, I was worried about the characterization. I'm glad to know I haven't missed the mark completely.

Okay, enough of my babbling, let's get on with-- er, my babbling…

~~*~~

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred four."

A rough voice croaked in the dark, still room. 

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred five."

He knew it wasn't the fresh water. If there had been a leak in those lines, someone would have been down here ages ago.

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred six."

He figured it was a sewer line. It would explain the smell.

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred seven."

Though it made the dampness in his seem cell even worse, somehow. Less of a 'Jeeze' kinda situation and more of an 'Eww'.

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and eight." 

He wasn't sure how long he'd be down here. Long enough to loose track of the days. Long enough to be dizzy from hunger. Long enough that the worst of the bruises hurt less, and his face didn't seem to be as swollen anymore.

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and nine."

Long enough to plan revenge on Shelly. It had to have been her. Had to. She had been the only one to see the parts he had nipped. Too stupid to figure out what those part could be used for, she must have turned him in hopes of a reward. 

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and ten."

They had taken his jammer. The device would have blocked the signal trapping everyone here in the warehouse. His only hope. A chance to run. Get out and go to ground. Maybe find a way to earn enough to get the hell off this hunk of floating metal. Actually see a planet again. Swim in an ocean. 'Cos he knew there was no way they were ever going to just let him go. His time had been up almost three months ago. By planetary law, he should have been set free. But he was too valuable to them. The things he could design, he could make-- not to mention certain enhancements…. He reached up and rubbed at the port in his neck. The skin around it felt stretched and hot. Sore to the touch. It was getting infected. Again. 

No surprise, considering where he was at. Cardinal rule of his life: keep the 'port clean. Anything that has direct access to your brain gives everything *else* direct access to your brain.

But his system was probably run down anyway. Not enough food, sitting and sleeping in filth. Oh, and healing up from his punishment for trying to escape. He was surprised he wasn't sick all ready. 

__

~Thrip.

"Eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and…and…hell."

His head hurt. His throat burned. He was cold, hungry, sore-- and sick of setting in the dark. At this point, he wasn't sure if he wouldn't have preferred them killing him. 

__

~Thrip.

He blinked in the almost total darkness. Sighed heavily. Made a sound between a laugh and a sob. "One." 

He was on fifty-eight when the door opened.

Eyes tearing painfully against the sudden light, he staggered to his feet, instinctively moving away from the blurry form filling the door. But it just grabbed him, jerking him forward by the scruff of the neck.

"You be a good boy now, Harper. You have a meeting to attend." Justin's voice hissed, as he was dragged down the hall toward the Fungus' private chambers.

__

Oh shit.

~~*~~

It was late, and she was tired, but Beka had a lot to do before the Fungus' people showed up in the morning. 

She walked down one of the market streets, busy even at this time of night -- of course, night and day were only relative terms in perpetual artificial light. 

Beka had spent the last hour haggling over supplies, and had managed to get a good deal, once she dropped Mr. Keegan's name. Now, as she wandered the shopping district looking for Tev's place, she found a little extra coin in her possession and splurged here and there. 

Like chocolate. It had literally been years since she'd even *seen* chocolate, let alone been able to afford it. It cost a night-sider's ransom, because it was still exported only from Earth. It was rumored that at least two Nietzschean Prides had built their fortunes on cocoa plantations.

Then there were clothes. It had been awhile since she'd gotten some new things, and there was a real leather store right across the street….

And dry goods. They needed to stock up on the Maru. Of course, there were samples to be had in the store. After one or two tastes, well, yes that was good, so she got a case. And that. And there was a new drink. Sparkly Soda. A sip told her it was too sweet, but it was full of caffeine, so, yeah, she wanted a case. It might help for long nights. Tev preferred salty rather than sweet, so she got two crates of salt cured ham and three jugs of Vestter, Tev's favorite drink—which Beka privately thought tasted like sweat. 

Speaking of Tev…she ordered everything to be shipped to the Maru's berth, and continued on her way. Found the small parts shop, which, like everything else here seemed to be open all night, and entered.

Tev was overjoyed to see her. It surprised Beka how much tension flowed out of her at the Vicka's greeting. Part of her had honestly expected Tev to refuse to come back. It wasn't like there was a contract between them. But Tev was more than happy to tell her boss off and rejoin Beka. 

Beka began to cautiously hope that things were honestly going to get better. This time, things would go right. This trip would be dangerous, but maybe it was the break she had been looking for. 

~~*~~

"This may look like the break you were waiting for, and you may be thinking of trying to run. But remember the clip and be smarter than you look." Justin pushed him hard. The unsteady boy staggered and almost went to his knees. Justin jerked him up and started shoving him through the halls again. "You will behave, and be polite, and follow Mr. Tosand's instructions to the letter. Am I understood?"

Harper nodded tiredly. Run? Was Justin insane? Never mind, stupid question. Even if he hadn't been sore and half starved and barely able to *walk*, there was still the small device implanted in his arm, leashing him to the inside of the building like every other inmate. So even if he managed to take Justin down, and run the almost half-mile to the door – through a warehouse full of armed guards – the device would go off as soon as he stepped outside, shocking him into oblivion.

Oh yeah. Running was the first thing he planed to do. He rolled his eyes, wincing as the still stiff and swollen side of his face pulled. 

They finally arrived at the Fungus' chambers and, with a quick knock, Justin let them in.

Warm, rich wood paneling. Thick, heavy carpeting. Bright crystal. Elegance. Wealth. Comfort. The room spoke for itself. 

And in the middle of it, on a large, plush sofa, sat the Fungus. A rotting body in the midst of it all.

Harper shuddered.

"Ah…" Tosand said, and Harper could hear the slight slur—the man was high, not that Harper really blamed him, he didn't know how sober he would stay if some parasite was eating *him*, "It's the Harper. Finally. I was beginning to think Justin had lost you somewhere downstairs."

"I wasn't so lucky." Harper's voice cracked on the last word.

The Fungus chuckled as Justin shoved Harper harder then necessary on to the carpet in front of him. 

"Ah, well. Few of us have the luck we would like," Tosand said, philosophically. "Sit down."

Justin pushed him down and Harper didn't fight as he fell to his knees.

"There. That's better, isn't it." Tosand smiled. "We need to have a conversation, Master Harper."

Harper swallowed at the look the Fungus was giving him. The man might be high, but it hadn't made him mellow. "We do?"

"Oh yes. You see, you've committed a crime by trying to escape from this court appointed detention center."

Harper bristled. "My time's up! I finished my six months three months ago, and you know it, Fungus!"

Tosand glared. No one called him that to his face. Then he slowly smiled, and Harper braced himself. "Six months?" He reached over and picked a flexy up from the table. Read from it. "Your sentence wasn't six months. You were remanded into my custody for a full year, Master Harper."

"What!"

Tosand nodded happily. "It's right here in your records. Which I have access to at all times. You were sentenced to this juvenile facility for stealing a ship for a full year." Tosand picked up a stylus and scribbled something. "Oh, I'm sorry. I miss-read. You're here for a year and six months." 

"No! You can't do this!" Harper started to stand, only to have Justin push him back down.

Tosand looked up, meeting Harper's gaze squarely. There was no hint of amusement in him now. "Rest assured, Harper, I can do what I want. Especially with you. You breathe because I will it. You eat only when I say. And you will leave here only when I allow it."

Harper felt the last of his strength dissolve. After all these years, after all the fighting, just to be free…he was owned again. All for a ship he had never even touched in the first place. He knelt on the Fungus' expensive carpet and felt the words sink in. He was never going to be able to leave this place alive. 

Fine then. Fuck it. He might not be able to get out of here, but that didn't mean he had to cooperate.

His head came up and he glared at the Fungus. "Fine. So you own me. Whatever. But don't think you're gonna use me, Fungus. 'Cos the next time you put a tool in my hand, I'll find a way to bring this shit hole down on everybody's head."

"You wouldn't. You don't have the balls." Justin sneered from behind him.

Harper's eyes narrowed as he stared at the Fungus. "I will. And he knows I will. *No one* is ever gonna own me again, even if I have to kill all of us to keep it that way."

The Fungus smiled a smug, little smile. "Now, now; no need to be so melodramatic, Master Harper. I did not have to tell you about this at all. No, I could've kept this…news to myself. Utilized your skills as much as possible, while waiting for you to escape – and I have no doubts you would manage to do so eventually—and then simply had you picked up by the authorities and delivered back here. You see, as an escaped criminal, you will never make it off this station. 

"However, I don't want to play that game with you. I have a deal for you, Harper. I want you to help the family by playing engineer for a ship on a salvage run."

"And why should I help you?" 

"Very simple, Mister Harper. The carrot and the stick."

"The carrot and the stick?" Harper closed his eyes tiredly.

"Indeed. The stick is the job…you will fix the ship as well as maintain it during the journey. You will keep an eye on this 'captain' and find a way to report her movements and activities to me, and *only* me. And, if I require it, you will take her ship and dispose of her crew."

"And the carrot?"

Tosand chuckled. "Why, your freedom, of course. If you perform adequately, I will make sure your records are…misplaced. Not only will you be free to go, you will never have been here in the first place."

"Why should I trust you? If I do this, what's to keep you from just…keeping *me* when I get back?"

"Why, you said it yourself. You would never work for me again, and I couldn't trust you not to at least try to destroy this entire establishment. I would have no reason to keep you."

Harper opened his eyes. "And why should you trust me? What's to keep me from, like, just…leaving, as soon as I'm away from here?"

Tosand's eyes glittered. "Your clip."

"My clip?" Harper lifted his forearm and looked at the insignificant lump that concealed the small mechanical device which kept him here. Arrested, given what passed as a trial, and convicted, he had been sent here. Placed under a sort of house arrest, supervised by Mr. Tosand, they had implanted a small cylinder, about the size of a pen. It worked on bio-electric energy, powered by the tiny electrical pulses put out by human nerve endings. So long as it received a control pulse – originating from these very rooms—it was dormant. But as soon as the host was out of range (in his case, even a foot outside the warehouse doors) it activated, charging those very nerve endings and shorting out the whole nervous system, painfully dropping its host into unconscious. 

Harper hated it. The only reason it was still lodged in his arm, was that it was equipped with an anti-removal system. An explosive charge was rigged in the device set to go off as soon as is stopped receiving bio-electrical energy; in other words, a nano-second after it lost contact with the nerve endings, it went boom in a very messy way.

Still there were those who tried to cut it out. They usually lost both hands, the one it was implanted above as well as the one used to pull it out. Some of them had lost eyes too, due to shrapnel. The really lucky ones had taken it in the throat and quickly bleed to death.

Harper had come up with a way around the clip-- a small jamming device that would fool the clip into thinking it was receiving a new security pulse…one that would come form any portable radio. But he had never gotten the chance to complete it, thanks to that delightful little skank, Shelly.

Harper looked up again, confused. "But you'd have to turn my clip off, just to get me dockside. How could it keep me from running?"

"Because Justin is going to make three small adjustments to the device.

"One: the security pulse setting will be removed and replace by a long distance remote activation. If you run, and I can get within five hundred miles of you, I will be able to active the device. 

"Two: the 'shock' will be removed. It was if for here, but it is useless in this situation. When and if the device is activated, it will simply explode. At five times the force it is set at now. 

"Three: the device will be placed on a timer. We have been informed that the journey should take roughly three solar months. Adding two weeks dockside, and one more when you reach you destination, the timer will be set at four months. If you are not back here by then, the device will detonate. 

"Those are the terms, Harper. They are not up for negotiation." 

Tosand lead forward and put a hand on Harper's shoulder. His fingers, sticky with old blood and dried puss, brushed against Harper throat. "Just keep in mind, boy, that either way, here or out there, you are mine. Until I choose to free you, you. are. mine." Then the Fungus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his gut. "So, your decision?"

Harper winced, reaching up to scrub at the residue Tosand had left on his skin with the sleeve of his shirt. It really wasn't a difficult question. If he refused, they would kill him now…or if he was unlucky, they would make his life miserable for a long, long time before they offed him. If he went on this run, he would possibly die, but it wouldn't be here, in this hellhole. And maybe, just maybe, he would be set free at the end of it. 

"Do I really have a choice?" He asked them, smiling bitterly, still rubbing at his neck.

~~*~~

Morning found Beka dockside, overseeing the loading of the supplies she had bought last night. Clipboard in hand, she carefully inspected the loads, checking to make sure everything was there, and nothing nasty had been hidden in them, before sending them on to the automatic loader. 

So, outside the ship and monitoring the crowd, see was in a perfect position to see Justin as he walked up, grungy kid by his side. "You've gotta be kidding me," she muttered, pushing the clipboard into Tev's paws and moving to intercept.

She strode straight up to Justin, getting in his face. "Not just no, but hell no."

"Miss Valentine, good morning."

"For the last freaking time, it's Captain. And I'm not taking this…kid." She had almost said 'thing'.

The boy snorted. "Well, it's nice to meet you too. Such a pleasant person. I feel so welcome." He stood there, baggy pants, oversized tee-shirt, and a sweatshirt with enough holes in it that she could almost make out the pattern on the tee beneath it. A duffel bag hung off one shoulder. Week old bruises on his face, favoring one arm, and despite it all, cocky as hell. He couldn't be a day over seventeen.

She ignored him. "No way." She said to Justin again.

"Captain, Mr. Tosand wished me to give you is regards and to reassure you that despite appearances, he has sent you the finest mechanic in our stable. He also wished me to remind you that the contract, which does not specify a specific engineer, is already signed. "

She gave the boy another incredulous look.

Who just grinned back at her. "What, you think seeing *you* as my new captain just fills me with confidence?"

She sighed. "Can you fix things?"

"Fix 'em, fly 'em, make 'em dance."

She rubbed a hand over her face. "Fine. I guess I've got no choice. There are ship specs in the hold, as well as repair plans. You had better get started."

"Yes ma'am." He picked up his bag and started toward the ship.

Justin cleared his throat. "Your parts will arrive at mid-morning. I believe you'll be satisfied."

She glared at him. "Satisfied. Well, you're not off to a good start. Tell Tosand I'm not happy."

"I'll pass on the message," he actually seemed to be sneering. "The money…?"

"You'll get it when I get my parts." As well as once she'd had a chance to make sure the boy could work a screwdriver.

Justin nodded. He had probably been expecting that answer. He turned back to his vehicle. "Good trip, captain."

"Thanks," she said dryly. She had the feeling it was going to be a long one.

~~*~~


	5. Early Days: Chapter 4

Disclaimer: They say, reality is how you perceive it, so if I *perceive* that I do own "Andromeda", do I?

For that matter, if I *perceive* myself as mistress of all space and time, am I? 

Maybe in some parallel dimension, but *not* here. More's the pity. Anyway…Don't own 'em, and not making any money. At all. Really. I need a better job…. 

Notes: This is just a long conversation piece, really. If you only read the last little part, you get pretty much all you need. :P 

Is anyone finding this boring yet? I hope not, but it feels a little draggy to me. Hmmm.

Thanks to Parisindy and Becky. Glad you're still here, hope you after this one. Lol.

Again, any feed back is more than welcome. Good, bad, or indifferent. Please…? ::flutters eyelashes::

_________________________________________________________________________________

~~*~~

Tev was throwing her nasty looks every time she walked past.

Normally not something to get upset about, but Tev could look really, really mean when she wanted to. She was shooting daggers at Beka so often it wasn't hard to figure she was truly pissed.

And Beka even knew why. She could tell from the sympathetic glances Tev shone on the boy every few minutes. 

Beka was standing in the galley, taking stock of what household items she needed to stock up on when Tev walked through again. "It's not working," she muttered at the Vicka, as those amber eyes lit upon the boy-- who had his head stuck in an access panel, working on the AG regulators. "I don't feel bad for him."

"That's because you're a hard-hearted brute." Tev shot back, in her barking common. Her lip curled as she made her way out of the room.

Why was it, when species with muzzles made that gesture, she could never tell if it was a grin or a snarl? 

"It's only been a few hours!" She called after the retreating Vicka. 

"It's been eleven!" Came the response.

Eleven? Really? Huh.

Okay, so maybe she was being a bit hard on the kid. But, damnit, he was a spy! He wasn't trustworthy by definition.

So what if he hadn't had a break, or if she and Tev had decided to skip meals, snacking instead because they were too busy to sit down for long.

Eleven hours. And who knew how long before that.

Damnit.

Sighing, Beka stood, rummaging through the upper cabinet, wondering how Tev could push her buttons like that. It was the muzzle. It had to be. It just made them look…mean. Daunting. She pulled out a can of soup and dumped it a bowl. Inscrutable. She wished she had a muzzle. It was easy to be intimidating when you had teeth like that, she mused, sticking the bowl in the warmer and turning it on. She didn't want to look like a night-sider, though. All beady and twitchy. They weren't intimidating, so much as annoying. On the other hand, she wouldn't mind Tev's looks. Her hair was more furry, and the black stripes over orange eyes…. That face was a weapon of intimidation.

The warmer went ding. She pulled out the bowl. 

And sighed again, feeling like an idiot. So what if the kid hadn't eaten in awhile? It's not like he wouldn't join them for breakfast, at the ship's table. Still…he was working pretty damned hard, and she could see the way his clothes bagged on his frame…

As she set the bowl on the table she knew her Dad wouldn't have been happy. He would have said she was going soft, or getting weak. Wasting ship stock on a spying outsider. _'Toughen up, Rocket. Don't be such a girl.'_

Unless he was in one of his rare, sober periods. In which case he would be pissed she had made the boy wait this long.

She was getting another headache.

She wandered over to the console where he was working. Leaned against the wall for a moment, watching. Then knocked hard on the metal. "Hey, kid. You hungry?"

He jerked, banning his head. "Ow."

She grinned. For some reason she felt better.

He blinked at her owlishly. "Huh?"

"Food, genius. You want some?"

"Um, yeah. I guess. Thanks," he looked surprised. What? He thought she wasn't gonna feed him for the next three months?

Irritated again, she jerked her head at the table. "It's over there."

He nodded, putting his tools down and standing, watching her carefully. 

"What?" she demanded, "Did I grow another head?"

He grinned slightly, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and shook his head. Retreated to the table.

Hmm. Self-control. She wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not.

Probably just didn't want to offend her and loose his chance at the food.

He set into the soup like he hadn't eaten in years. She rolled her eyes. Growing, adolescent human male. She vaguely remembered how Rafe had eaten at that age and figured she needed more supplies. 

She stood there, watching him until he shifted uncomfortably, looking up questioningly.

She shook her head, and moved to the small counter. "Want something to drink?"

"Yeah, sure."

She debated using the coffee, then decided to save it. Instead she pulled two Sparkly Colas out of the 'fridge. Joined him at the table. 

She handed him one of the cans, and opened her own.

"We've never been properly introduced. I'm Beka Valentine."

He was turning the can over and over in his hands. "Seamus Zelazny Harper."

"Zelazny?" She grinned.

He looked at her, eyebrow raised and humor in his eyes. "Valentine?"

"Point." 

He grinned and opened the can. It frothed over a little. He sipped at it before it could spill and his eyes widened. "What is this?" 

She shrugged, "Sparkly Cola. It's new." She looked at the garish can. "A little too syrupy for my taste."

He had taken another couple of drinks. "Cola, huh? I like it."

She stared. "You've never had a cola before?"

It was his turn to shrug, flushing slightly. She dropped the subject.

"So… how go the repairs?"

"So far so good." He relaxed slightly, taking another deep drink. "You're in better shape than you thought. The hull is tight, and the power grid is good. The AG is…wavery," he wobbled his hand. "I'm surprised you didn't feel it coming in."

She was shocked. "Weird floating sensation, and your stomach flips, but just for a second?"

"Yep. Like a roller-coaster. Happened most often when you changed velocity or direction?"

She nodded, bemused, wondering just what a roller-coaster was.

"Yeah. Figures. That was the field cutting in and out. The field would collapse for a second 'cos it couldn't keep up with the shift in mass, then pop back up when the ship was stable."

"You can fix it, though, right?"

"Oh yeah. S'no biggy. Just have to amp up the generator and tweak the system a bit. Nothing too major."

She hated to admit it, but she was impressed. "What about the slipstream engine?"

He eyed her as if judging her temper, then sighed. "Thing's a freaken' antique. I'm surprised it runs as well as it does… which is not well at all. We could sell it to the history museum and get you at least two imperials."

"Ha ha," she rolled her eyes. He grinned slightly. She would *not* like this kid. Absolutely not. "Can you get it to work for the haul?" She hated the thought of having to get a new one. If she had to invest in a new slipstream drive, there would be no money left to convert the Maru into a salvage freighter.

He bit his lip. "It depends."

"On?"

"On where we're going." He met her eyes squarely. "On how many slips it'll take to get there, and back. On how much weight's on board and how much shifting it does during transfer. On what kinda parts and supplies I have to work with." He shrugged. "Without that information, I can't promise you one way or the other."

She grimaced, debating. She knew this was only the truth, but she hated sharing the information. Not that she had a choice.

She stood suddenly, and blinked as the kid flinched back. "You okay?"

"Me? I'm perfect." He rubbed a hand over his face.

"Okay," she shrugged it off. "Wait here, I'll be right back." She left to retrieve the plans from her quarters. 

~~*~~

Harper watched as the captain disappeared down the hall. 

Alone. For the first time all day, they had left him alone.

He quickly turned back to the access panel he'd been working on before. In the galley. Not the place he would have preferred to put it, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He quickly pulled out the circuit board he had been working on before. He removed a small routing chip, and reaching into his pocket, replaced it with an open-access jack. He absently pulled his soldering wand from his tool belt with the flair of a gunfighter pulling his pistol. He began fixing the new plug into place. 

"C'mon, c'mon," he hissed, tacking down the necessary wires, and rerouting ship functions around the new access. He had to hurry. He didn't know how long they would leave him unsupervised….

"Harper," The captain's hand fell on his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

He just about leapt out of his skin. He spun, hot soldering wand coming up defensively before he saw the captain's face. Partly surprised, partly angered, she stood watching him with those bright, dangerous eyes.

He blew out a melodramatic breath and clutched at his chest, switching the soldering iron off. "Man! You scared the bejezzus outta me, Captain!"

She looked at him for a moment, then glanced at the exposed circuit board behind him. "What were you doing?"

He gave her a 'duh' look. "Fixing the ship…?" He ended it with a 'wasn't I supposed to be' tone.

She looked over the board again, then seemed to dismiss it. She walked over to the table. "Can you leave that? I'd like to get your opinion on this."

"Sure. I'm pretty much done here." He carefully turned his back to her as he quickly checked over his hasty work. Everything seemed to be fine. He closed his eyes for a moment, repressing a shudder at how close that had been.

He picked up the cover for the panel, and bolted it back into the wall.

If everything went smoothly, they would never know the Maru now had an access jack capable of bio-cyber interfacing.

"Now, Harper." She called again.

"On my way, Captain."

~~*~~

Beka winced as the kid called her 'captain' again. "Don't." she said, before she could think.

"What?" He stopped, looking at her nervously.

"Don't call me 'Captain'. That's for people outside the Maru."

He looked at her for a moment. He seemed a little flushed. Then simply nodded, "You're the boss. Your every wish, I shall endeavor to fulfill."

She snorted. "Sarcasm becomes you." She gestured at the seat across from her.

"All things become me, for I am cute and fuzzy." He sat.

"Fuzzy?"

He grinned triumphantly. "So you *do* think I'm cute!"

"Let me put it this way," she grinned back, "you're about as cute as you are trustworthy."

"You wound me."

"So you agree you're *not* trustworthy."

He looked at her flatly. "I never said I was, Boss."

She hesitated, then said, "No, you never did." Shaking her head, she proffered the flexy she was holding. "In any event, we still need to make plans." 

He took it, quickly scanning the contents. "You've got to be kidding me." He looked up at her. "Is this for real?"

She grinned. "Real enough for Keegan to send me after it."

He stared at the printout. "An ancient space-station."

"An abandoned *commonwealth* station." She got up and came around the table to look at the flexy over his shoulder. "A pristine, fully stocked, commonwealth station. And it's all ours."

"Where the hell did it come from?" Harper started paging through the documents. 

"The best guess I've heard is that it broke loose from where ever it was orbiting, and has just been drifting for three-hundred years." Even she could hear the greed in her voice.

"So how did Keegan's people find it?"

Beka chuckled. "Rumors. There have been stories of it for decades. A treasure trove just floating around—"

Harper snorted. "There are always rumors of long lost commonwealth stuff floating about. There's even a story that a high guard warship got caught on the fringes of a black-hole. But that's all they are—stories."

"Not this one. This is real, Seamus." She smiled, catching the excitement. "About twenty years ago one of Keegan's people spotted it. He'd been taking the back slipstream routes because of certain…professional problems. This employee kept the knowledge to himself, and by the time Keegan found out it was out there, it had slipped into the edges of a stellar nursery where it's been for the last fifteen years. But now, it's finally come out. And we're going in to get it." 

"Whoa." Harper hissed, still reading the flexy. "Beka, Boss, this thing is setting *right* on the edge of one of the most unstable areas in the galaxy. There are no slipstream routes that go through there."

"So we find new ones! They wanted me because I'm the best pilot there is. If you can keep the ship running, I can get us there. I know it."

Harper sat quietly, still studding the flexy. Slowly he looked up. "I'll have the Maru ready in three days."

Beka grinned. "Yes."

~~*~~

It was late, and the Maru was still. Tev had fallen asleep a few hours ago, and the boy was in his berth, laying quietly, if not asleep.

Beka moved into the galley, and quickly removed that access panel. Sorting through the circuit boards there, she found the one the boy had been working on because of the new wiring. She carefully want over every new junction, each new circuit. She didn't see anything, but that didn't mean there wasn't anything *to* see. She wasn't an expert.

Harper seemed to be, though.

"Just what are you up to, kid?"

Sighing she pushed the board back into place, and closed the panel. Whatever he was up to, it could wait until morning, she supposed.

Gathering up her few tools, she went to bed.

Never seeing the eyes that watched her from the shadows.

~~*~~


	6. Early Days: Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda…Tribune Entertainment does. Though I do think they should do more Harper centered plots. g Let the little psycho out to play. g 

Notes: Is anything ever gonna happen in this stupid fic?!? Ugh. Feel free to skip this chapter. I may cut it out entirely after the story is whole.

Thanks to Brat64, Parisindy, and Starfish. (You guys are still here? What, are you gluttons for punishment?g) Really, the encouragement means a lot to me. ::smile:: Thanks.

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

Just a reminder:

Early Days

By: Ghost

Chapter 5~

~~*~~

It was hotter then hell in the engine room. 

Well, okay, maybe not hell. But it was definitely almost as hot as the dorms in high summer, when the sun had beat down on the tin roof all day, and the heat just built and built until he had developed this odd fear/hope that the whole place would just suddenly burst into flame in a bout of spontaneous combustion.

The Maru's engine room did smell better though.

Harper shook his head, breaking free of memories that would do him no good. He pulled his button-down over-shirt off, leaving only a sleeveless tee. It was just too damned hot to wear layers down here. And besides, there was no one here to see. He absently draped it over the catwalk railing.

He grabbed a valve and turned, watching the meter carefully, making sure the new splice on the feed-line held. Tomorrow. He had to have the thrusters rebuild and primed because the were leaving tomorrow.

Tomorrow he would be off this hellhole and once again in space. Moving. Doing. Free.

Mostly, anyway. It would give him four months to figure out a way to get himself free, at least. He sighed, laying his head on his hands, ignoring the sweat. 

It was all good, though. At least he'd be the fuck away from here. Everything was set. The AG was purring, the slipstream was functioning without a hitch, and the thrusters would be burning in a couple of hours. Almost twelve hours ahead of schedule.

Cool.

He slipped through the guardrail and dropped down to the next platform to check the splice.

Not a drip. He nodded slightly and pulled his flexy out of his belt, looking for his next chore.

"Harper?" Beka's voice echoed from up top. Sharp and angry.

"Down here, Boss." Harper responded, wondering just what he'd done to piss her off now. She'd been cold the past couple of days. Cold and easily annoyed if he did anything remotely surprising. Her hovering had kept him from getting some…things done.

She appeared, crouching down on the catwalk above his head. He kept his head down eyes on his work. "What're you up to?"

Irritated, he flashed the flexy at her, "Just working the list, Boss." He knew his voice was hard, sarcastic, but he couldn't control it. 

She actually winced, as if chastised. "Sorry. I'm just…anise." 

"Yeah." Whatever. He sighed tiredly and rubbed a hand over his face, clearing the sweat.

Baka, who had been crouched there watching him awkwardly, now cleared her throat. "Interesting decoration. Where'd you get it?" She gestured at his upper-arm.

On his arm was a brand. A perfect circle bisected by a sharply stylized 's'. Three patterned slash marks, looking almost like lighting, cut through the 's'.

He flinched, and reached up to pull his over-shirt down from the rail next to her. "Did you want something?" he snarled, pulling his shirt on again. Not a smart way to talk to the person who decides whether or not you get to live for the next few months. But he was beyond caring. He was tired, his port was getting more sore everyday-- and the memories were way, way to close today.

She actually looked a little shamed faced. "Right. Don't talk about the mark. Got it."

He shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. Swallowing against remembered anger and pain.

"Anyway, I just came to tell you both Tev and I will be dockside for awhile. Both the water and fuel tankers showed up at the same time as the sewage. We have to keep an eye on things. So…."

"'Kay. Have fun." Harper looked up, trying to project distracted innocence. From Beka's dark look, he didn't think it worked completely. 

But she stood up anyway, brushing her hands off on her pants. "Right. Okay then. Remember, we're just dockside." It was a warning. He smiled as if it were a reassurance.

She gave him another look, and left, striding purposefully out of the engine room.

He gave it five minutes then scrambled upstairs.

The galley was empty. Harper worked quickly and quietly, first unscrewing the coverlet then pulling the circuit board. Pulling a length of cable from his pocket, he plugged the shorter, thicker end into the jack on the board. 

He played out the cord and, taking a deep breath, inserted the long, needle like jack into his port. He hissed out the breath slowly as the jack worked its way in, a deep trail of fire pulsing through his neck, back and up, growing worse, until the jack touched the access deep in his brain-stem. As always, Harper felt that moment as a flash of white and cold and a popping sensation, like someone had shoved an ice-pick into his skull.

Opening his eyes, he panted through the last of the pain. They said it got easier. That he would grow used to it and it would get easier.

He could only hope they were right.

He could already feel the system pulling at him. A tug in the back of his mind, a sort of hum, as the ship's computer worked on about a billion things all at once. It was so much better, in the system. Clean, neat, painless.

With a sigh, he let go of his hold on his physical form and dropped into the data-stream.

At first he just wallowed. Stretching. Exploring. Coming to know the Maru's soul.

Then he got to work. 

No one knew that Harper had two memories. His normal, everyday, namby-pamby, *human* memory… and a small chip, a computer memory that functioned as both buffer and cache. A sort of interpreter between biological thought and data flow. 

He had set a small part of this memory aside. In it he had stored three programs of his own design. The first two he wouldn't need. The last one…. 

He uploaded a "masking" program. As soon as he activated it, he became invisible to the Maru's computer. Just one more random program doing random program things. And if the Maru looked too closely at him, it would get distracted by a sensor blip. Or a minor program glitch. Or a miss-read of the core temp. Anything to distract it from the insignificant entity running around its mind.

Harper was now a ghost in the machine.

That done, he turned his attention to his second chore, rifling through the Maru's files and memory, looking for a weak spot, a place to build his back door. 

Maps and star charts. Nope. Sensor loads. Nuh-uh. Entertainment files. He considered, then abandoned. Too centralized. In coming/outgoing mail. Please. That'd be the first place they looked. Personal files. That was a possibility. 

He opened them, looking for something he could use. Most of the files were Beka's. Notes, observations, little known slip routes. Even one or two she had found herself. He was impressed. It took one hell of a pilot to find a new route. Still, he couldn't use these as a cover for his backdoor. They were too likely to be activated by Beka during the trip. 

He was about to leave when he saw it. A small file, labeled _ROCKET_. Curious, he opened it. 

A data file. Listing of apparently random information. Stupid stuff, like the cost of the Maru, and the rates of hauling water. The population of Senceane Drift. The street price of Flash on three different planets and dozens of stations. And much more of the same.

Confused, he started to pull back, then saw an attachment. Of course he opened it.

__

Rocket,

Keep this stuff, you'll want it some day. It'll make more sense when you're in the black. I promise.

Fly free,

Dad.
    
    
    Weird. Harper shook his head. At least now he knew why  
     Beka was about as stable as a pulsar; it appeared to be genetic.

He closed the file and moved on. 

In the end, he finally wedged his back door into the fire-control system. He knew from his repair work that no one had even looked at the system in years, so it seemed a safe enough place to create his access. Then he attacked the communications system, building a sub system that he could use whenever he wanted. It would be text only, no visual or holographic communications, but it would be nearly undetectable and almost completely untraceable. 

Which was a good as he was gonna get, 'cos although he had no sense of time while in the matrix, he knew he'd been in awhile, and that Beka or Tev could come to cheek on him at any time.

With a sort of mild reluctance, Harper reached out and made contact with his body, tugging himself out of the data stream. He blinked, reorienting himself with both his body and surroundings, then pulled the jack free, trying to ignore the slithery feeling as it came out.

He bundled his connection cord up and put it away. Bolted the panel back to the wall.

He had done it. He now had a way to contact the Fungus at anytime, without Beka's knowledge.

He sat at the galley table and told himself he did not feel guilty.

If he said it enough times, he might even believe it.

~~*~~

The next few days were some of the easiest in Harper's memory. The launch— and the exhilarating sense of escape it brought-- was quickly replaced by tedium. Working the boards, or the engines or the computer. Eating when he was hungry (luxury beyond measure) sleeping when he was tired. The Maru had no set schedule.

Which suited Harper just fine. It made sending his 'non-progress' reports to the Fungus easy, though not guilt free. But he kept the messages simple and brief: _"4 slips out from SN. More later."_ And if they contained no real information, well, that was just because there was really nothing to report.

Well, nothing except for his Plan.™ Not that he was going to report *that* to the Fungus. Not that he was going to share it with anybody. Once he had calmed down, it had dawned on him that the Maru was a treasure trove of parts that he could use…and if he had built one jamming device, he could build another…one that could even simulate the bio-electric impulses of human nerve-endings, maybe.

All in all, Harper was in a good mood. Tev was cool. Sweet and disarming, despite the muzzle and claws. Even he and Beka had this funky kinda push-me-pull-you, teasing vibe going. Relaxed and not needy or threatening. Just… almost…. It kinda reminded him of the way he had been with his cousins—

He was not going there.

He pushed the memories away, but his mood turned sour. If Beka ever found out what he was doing…. That he was spying, she probably figured out already, but stealing from the ship-stores while they were in transit and the life of her crew might depend on those parts…it was a crime of a whole 'nother level.

She would never forgive him, and he would loose….

Loose what? A place on a ship that wasn't really his? A growing relationship he didn't understand and didn't want with a person who was just as dangerous as she was funny? _A home.. a place to belong…?_

Screw it. If he didn't steal, he would loose more than that. His freedom. His life.

He stuck another chip into his pocket.

~~*~~

"Brace for transit." 

Beka gritted her teeth against the weird, familiar *stretching* sensation as the Maru slid into the stream. It was a long slip, and she misjudged the angle twice, the ship jerking as it tried to veer out of the stream and she yanked it back.

She was breathing hard by the time the ship emerged.

"That was a rough one." Tev said from the weapons station.

"Loosin' your touch, Boss?" Harper called from behind her.

"I've been doing this for the last two weeks without a break and I'm freakin' tired!"

Two weeks. It had been two weeks of pecking at the fringes, of dancing with the stream, trying to get it to lead her just a little closer to the stellar nursery each time. Two weeks, during which her crew had become more and more tense, as the slips gotten progressively more deadly. 

They were three days behind schedule, and a run that was *supposed* to have taken three weeks now looked to be a month long venture.

There were supplies to be worried over. Fuel levels. Water and air. 

And as each day passed and they *weren't* there, she worried more. Telling herself that the trip back would be quicker because the route would have already been forged. That, if the were lucky, they could restock from the station. That she still had time.

"Look, Boss, you seem done in. Why don't you go rest for awhile and I'll…tweak the drive, see if I can give you a little more oomph."

Harper. That was another worry. The longer the trip went on, the more helpful he got. It didn't make sense. Out of the three of them, he was the one *not* getting paid. He should be screaming the loudest about how stupid this was, and how they should turn back. Instead he was literally working till his fingers bled, trying to make the ship respond to her slightest touch. She had never had the Maru react to her so quickly or fully. It was heady.

And it was wrong. He should be trying to sabotage her, not smooth her way.

And on top of it all, the little bastard was stealing parts.

It wasn't blatant. Nothing big…yet. Just a blinding grin, and a twitch of those too quick hands, and poof, another unnamed piece disappeared into those endless pockets.

She dropped her face into her hands, overwhelmed. She was still strapped into the pilots chair.

"Beka," Tev barked softly, "You're exhausted. We'll never get there if you dump us into a sun because you're sleep deprived. Harper's right. Go get some sleep." Tev she should listen to. Tev she trusted.

Tev had been on the boy's side right from the start. It wasn't fair.

Still, they had a point. Her brain felt numb, foggy. Her hands were sluggish. "Okay," she heard herself say in a dead voice. "I guess a few hours won't hurt. Any of us. Let's shut her down for awhile. We'll go at it fresh in the morning."

Which would come whenever the turned the lights back on.

~~*~~


	7. Early Days: Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Tribune. Not me. Tribune. ::sticks out tongue:: 

Notes: Here's ya are. Sorry this one is a little late, I spent most of my free time today working on my résumé (what, you thought my saying I need a new job was a joke?). 

Again, I know that is story is a little…jumpy, but I'm literally making this up as I go. It will be heavily edited when (if) it gets finished. – How many more sub-plots can I get going!?! Lol.

Thanks to Antares, Spooky-girl, Brat64, Parisindy :) and X. It's nice too see you guys are still out there.

(X-the flashback was planed, but the blanket thing is all your fault. lol)

Again, any feed back is more than welcome. Please let me know if this chapter makes sense…if you can get what the guys are doing? Thanks.

So, I'm shutting-up now….

_____________________________________________________________________________________

~~*~~

__

Bang, bang, bang - THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP. 

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

The young boy stopped dead, surprised by the noise. He stood on a muddy hillside, under the mid-evening stars, and listened, poised like a rabbit. A breeze warm with a hint of spring ruffled his hair. Winter was over. He had survived it, though many he knew hadn't… 

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Movement in the huts and crowed dorms behind him. A few people came out, stood near him, also listening.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

He knew what it was. Had heard it before. But his brain wouldn't accept the information. Refused to deal. Input denied. 

Behind him a few began scrambling away. Boys in ragged clothes. Mothers herding half starved kids. A pair of young lovers, grungy and hollow eyed. Panic kindled slowly in people who could barely feel anymore.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

The rhythm of a five chambered heart. They used the sound to link to each other—to merge—to synch their heartbeats, abandoning individuality for the power of a pack mind during a big hunt. The fucking Neitzschean's must've had sold them out.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

Bang, bang, bang- THUMP.

"Purge." The word slipped from numb lips. "They're purging the camp."

Someone behind him screamed. Panic finally ignited like a wildfire, leaping from one person to the next, one dwelling to the next. Down the hill and away as the rhythm stopped. He turned. Ran. Ran faster. Somewhere behind him he could hear the snarling of the beasts. He Ran.

Refused to hear the screams. The grunts. The hiss of burning flesh. Refused to see the gore and the pain. Refused to smell it. Refused to feel it as he stepped in it. ~' S'all right, I've got shoes. Good thing I was Dana's size when he died…'~ He just ran. 

He was one of the lucky ones. There was nobody in camp for him to be worried about. Everyone he had cared about was already gone. It left him free to keep moving, ignoring the others who darted into houses and dorms to grab friends and relatives. He didn't slow. Except once, to grab a kid, who had fallen in the street, and haul her to her feet and push her, muttering the only word he understood at the moment. "Run."

And because of that brief pause they were so close he could hear their claws snick on the pavement behind him. Hear the chuffing, howling sound of their enjoyment. He turned a corner, darting into the dark, separating himself from the herd, hoping that they would go after the mass first, that he could gain just that much more time.

In the ally there were a few kids. One, who looked to be about eleven and was probably in her teens, had her had clamped firmly over the mouth of a terrified baby, whose squeals could still be heard, despite the fact that it had gone dusky with lack of air.

He moved on.

On… but not out. There was no way out. The Magog would simply push them against the fence at the edge of camp, where the Ubers would laugh enjoying the show.

He turned a corner—

--and was in the lab again. Strapped to the chair. He shook as he watched them come forward, a jack in one hand. His mouth was filled with something thick and pliable, so he wouldn't bite through his tongue when the seizures hit. He couldn't breathe. Frantic thoughts, ' No. Please, no… I don't want that thing in my head!'

They moved in, hands grabbing at him, the jack drove in--

--Harper jerked awake. Shuddering, gasping, he fought the scream lodged in his throat. 

Fuck. That was an oldie but a goody. Wiping a hand over his face, he sat up. The Maru was dark, still. Okay, so he had managed not to scream out loud. "Yay for me," he muttered quietly.

He sat for a minute, getting control of his breathing, his surroundings. Then considered going back to sleep. "Why dwell in hell?" he asked himself, standing, reluctantly abandoning the warm blankets. He briefly considered working on his new jammer—it was the perfect time, no one shouting for him, no one to walk in a catch him—but his hands were to shaky. All he need now was to accidentally pull the wrong wire and fry the whole thing before he'd even finished it. It's not like he had enough time to start over. Sighing he left his berth to wander into the hall. He padded toward the galley, still in his old sweats and sleeveless tee, thinking that he would drop another generic line to the Fungus and grab a Sparkly. He wondered how many of those Beka had left.

By the time he reached the galley, the Sparkly had taken precedence. He moved straight for the 'fridge. Opened it and pulled the cold can free of the light, shutting the door and just starting to turn toward the panel when she spoke.

"What the hell are you doing up?"

Maybe it was the dream; memories that were floating just beneath the surface, like restless storm clouds. Maybe it was the dark; unfamiliar shapes making odd, dangerous shapes in the shadows. Maybe it was her voice; cold and flat and accusatory. Maybe it was all of it. But suddenly he was in a different place, a bad place and—

__

--and he couldn't move and they were so much bigger then him, so much stronger, and they hadn't let him sleep and it had been *days* and they just kept hammering at him, *Where is it, little kludge? Where are they? Who else was there? What is it for? How did you do it? How did you make it? Where did you find it?* And every time he couldn't (wouldn't) answer, they got meaner, and he hurt, and he began to hope that they'd fuck up and go too far and just kill him, but they were professionals, and he knew he didn't have a hope in hell—

~~*~~ 

"Shit!" Beka hissed.

The boy had turned at her voice, jumped really—and she had meant to startle him, to shake him up a bit so she could maybe get a straight answer from him. But instead of the guilty grin she had expected, he dropped the can of cola he was holding, and lurched backward, slamming his head *hard*into the 'fridge. When he could go no further back, he had slid down, huddled on the floor, shaking like an unsecured hatch during liftoff. His gaze had gone distant, vague. He started to make a low noise; wordless desperation and pain.

Beka moved. She carefully went over to Harper, and crouched near him, but not too close, not invading his space, which she had figured out early on was a bit wider than normal. She held out her hands, showing that they were empty, but made no attempt to touch him. Instead see fought to catch his eyes.

"It's okay, Harper. You're all right. It's all over." She kept her voice steady, calm, and awareness finally began to seep into those lost eyes.

"Beka?" His voice was rough and he was still shaking.

"Yeah. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good. I'm good." He looked around the room, and brought a hand up to the back of his head. "Ow."

Beka smiled slightly. "Delayed reaction. You hit your head on the 'fridge."

"Oh." He still hadn't looked at her. And, she couldn't be sure in the dark, but she though he was blushing. She had never seen him blush before.

"So…" desperately she cast about for a way to smooth this over, without doing his pride any more damage. "So…." 

He smiled sadly. "I think you were asking me a question."

She grinned ruefully. She sat down on the floor across from him and, leaning over, grabbed the can of Sparkly. "So what was that all about?" She tossed him the can and he caught it deftly. 

He shrugged, studying the can with more attention than it deserved. "Nothing. Bad dreams. You spooked me. What are you doing up?"

"Too frazzled to sleep. Too shaky after that many slips. I needed to calm down before I could lay down. What kinda bad dreams?"

"How many kinds are there?" He smirked, but she could see the shakiness behind the gesture.

"A plethora. A rainbow of shades, from kinda weird all the way to heart-stopping."

"Then one of those. Yeah, it was one of those."

"While you were awake?"

He looked at her for a moment, then dropped his head, shrugging. He was still shivering slightly. No wonder, the floor was like ice.

She turned and popped open the cabinet behind her. Pulled out one of the emergency blankets. Handed it to him.

He simply held it for a moment, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, use it. It's cold in here tonight, and you're not wearing as much as you usually do." 

"You keep a blanket in the kitchen?" His voice echoed disbelief.

She smiled. "Standard emergency equipment. There's one in every room on board, along with a med. kit. One of the few regs I agree with."

"Oh." He seemed dazed, running his hands over the rough fabric, calluses catching on the nap. "I've never been in a place with a blanket in the kitchen." He sounded bemused, distant. Then he shook himself, "The temp regulator is probably on the fritz again. I'll get to work on it in the morning."

"That's cool. So long as we don't freeze, whenever you get to it is fine."

They sat there on the floor, in the dark, and just enjoyed not being alone for awhile. When Harper finally spoke, his voice was dead.

"Sorry," he muttered, still not using the blanket, "about all this. Freaking out like this." He looked up at her, something that wasn't *quite* fear in his eyes. "It won't happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." It sounded harsher than she intended, "Sorry, one of my pet peeves."

"S'all right. It's true." He popped open the can. "I sometimes think only a lack of imagination keeps me from immobilizing myself with imaginary fears."

She snorted. "It should go for me as much as you. The promises thing, I mean. Not the fears." She ignored his muttered 'yeah, yeah rub it in.' "I said I could get us to the station. Now… I've gotten us so close, but I'm not sure we can *get* any further in." She watched as he lifted the can, taking a deep drink. "I'm beginning to think we should just give it up and turn around while we still have enough fuel to get us back to—" 

"What?" he asked, confused by her sudden stop.

"Your arm." 

"Yeah, so?" He wasn't wearing sleeves, and she could see his brand. The stylized 's', the slashes that cut through it. He reached up as if to cover the mark.

"Wait!" She crawled over, Harper looking more and more freaked. 

"Uh, Boss…? Beka..? What're you—"

She took his arm in her hands, lightly tracing the 's' with one finger. He twitched. "What does this remind you of?"

He blinked at her nervously. "A lot of bad shit I'd rather forget?"

"No. Well, maybe you, but to me it looks like a map."

"A map." Disbelief.

"Oh yeah." She had no way of knowing how bright her eyes had gotten. She scrambled up, leaving Harper sitting stunned on the floor. She hit the com link. "Tev! Tev, get your furry hide outa bed and on deck! We're going in!"

~~*~~

"Mister Harper, what do you know about stellar nurseries?"

The bridge was bright, lights on full. Tev stood leaning lazily against her station, yawning, and showing a few too many teeth for Harper's liking. Beka was pacing, bouncing, around the bridge, eyeing the main screen like it was honey-hive and she was a bear.

Harper sighed, wishing Beka had at least given him time to put his socks on. His feet were cold. "What we have here is a big 'ol dust ball, just hanging out in space. This particular one is roughly 5 parsecs across, or say, roughly 12 light years. 

"Made up of a cloud of ionized, heated hydrogen, with cooler areas of interstellar molecular clouds swirling around, it has inside, oh, lets see, O and B stars, T Tauri stars, glowing hot dust and gasses, and Protostars, putting out enough infrared to fry most sensors. Not to mention the reflection nebulae and the unbound systems. 

"All of this create an unnavigable region, where the flux of gravity and heat and radiation can simply crush a ship—if you're not unlucky enough to just smack into a star hidden in the dust. Which is why there are no slipstream routes anywhere near a stellar nursery, let alone, leading right up to one."

Instead of bringing her down, the description seemed to rev Beka up to new levels. "And where are we compared to our target?"

Harper sighed again, pulling the proper display up on the computer. A huge, beautiful cloud filled most of the screen. Colors danced deep within it. It glowed like the eyes of a god.

"We are here." Harper marked a section of empty space just below the nebula with a small dot, then an arrow, then wrote the words 'You are Here' next to it. 

"The station is here." He marked an X just above a small dark tendril that had whipped out from the main cloud. "On the other side of the nebula. The station drifted into this arm roughly fifteen years ago. It's come out, but just barely. To get to it, we have to come, way, way too close to that arm. And, even though that little wisp looks about this big," he measured out a space between his thumb and forefinger, "It's actually about a light year across, and has enough force in it to crush us like the insects we are. Just so you know."

"Right," Beka smirked. "The whole place is a mess, slipstream speaking. Not a single route in." She smiled though, and something in that smile made Harper cringe.

"If that's true, then why are you so happy?" Tev half growled from her station. "Are you telling me I gave up a paying job to come here and *not* reach our pay off?"

"Oh no. you didn't listen, Tev…. Just 'cos there's not a single route in, not a *single* way… doesn't mean there might not be a couple of ways."

"What?" Tev suddenly came fully awake behind her.

Beka looked thoughtful, one hand moving like a whirlpool. "The slipstreams start to… swirl up close to the nursery. They get clogged, like water trying to go down a plugged drain, right? So every time we get close to the station, we either get kicked from the stream, or tossed sideways."

"It's the gravitation." Harper said, curious where Beka was taking this. "That many stars, in that kinda flux…the streams gets twisted into a knot. We can't ride it in, and flying straight would take almost four years…"

"We can't ride *one* in. What if we could take one from our side in, until it hits the knot, then hop to another, leading out?"

"Excuse me, Boss, but I think I speak for everyone when I say…huh?"

"Look at this," Beka traced the wisp of the nebula they had to cross. It flared away from its parent like a stylized 's'. "If we ride a stream in, then jump while in transit, we can slash our way through the arm and end up right at the stations door."

"You wanta jump streams while in transit?" Harper threw his arms up. "Sure, why not. And then we'll just rebuild the commonwealth, and make you the Empress of Tarn Vedra while we're at it." He stomped over and sat down on the railing above the pilots chair. Bare feet on a cold rail didn't help his temper. 

"No, really," Beka grinned. "Listen. The streams here are unstable. They bulge. If we wait for just the right moment, and we trigger the slipstream drive while in transit—"

"And blow half of the engine room to little, tinny, itty, bitty pieces--"

"Ah, c'mon, there's a good chance it won't blow. Besides, trying to open a new stream inside the old should tear a hole in the stream, allowing us to jump to the next available. In effect we solve Giddon's knot by cutting it apart."

"And just where did you get this marvelous idea?" Tev sighed.

Beka grinned and held up Harper's arm, showing her the brand. "Stylized 's' cut apart by three streams." Tev stared at it, then met his eyes sadly.

Harper jerked his arm away, glaring. "It might work," he said, "but I'll have to rig some kind of wall, or barrier to keep the *possible* blast as contained as possible. Keep it from taking down anything but the slipstream drive."

Tev shook her head, "And what about the slipstream drive? If it does blow, just how do we get home?"

"Tev, we'll be at the docks of a fully stocked space station! We could build a whole new one, let alone make minor repairs to the old one." Beka's excitement was contagious. "This is it Tev. The big payoff! Just have a little faith…"

Harper leaned over to Tev. "Are all Valentines insane, or did we luck out?"

Tev sniffled, her version of a chuckle. "I've worked with 'em for years now, and never met a sane one yet."

"So is that a yes?" Baka grinned.

~~*~~


	8. Early Days: Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I disclaim my brothers. And my dog, who just won't behave. He's a lot like my brothers in that sense g. I totally claim my cat. Oh Wait! Right. Not what that means…

Not mine. No money. I'm gonna go cry.

Notes: This one is late 'cos I was fighting with it…I couldn't make it work the way I wanted it to, and it took me all day to just let go and let it do what *it* wanted. Which is what I've been doing this whole time lol. 

Thanks to Danielle, X (Thanks for the input! I like it), Raven (lol, see X g and thanks), Antares, Parisindy (bg), Amelia (he's working on itg), Anya (wow. Thanks) and Spooky-girl (Thanks I was worried.) Really, the encouragement means a lot to me. ::smile:: Thanks everybody!

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

:: retreating to sit flabbergasted in a corner.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

~~*~~

Bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.

Hours of mapping slips and changing air filters and tracing down that rattle that had been plaguing the lower deck for the past year. Hours of doing make-shift work, waiting for Harper to prep the engine room so they could try out her plan. Hours days of waiting.

Waiting while her instincts screamed they should just go. Move, do it now. They had a plan, now, and they were already behind schedule…everything in her said they needed to *go*!

At least, everything that had been trained into her by her father, who had never been a patient man, or a careful one. Never been cautious about his money or his reputation or his ship…or his family.

And so she bit it back, reined herself in, still learning to listen to that little voice in the back of her head that said W_ait, Beka. Stop. Think. _A voice that had always sounded like her mother before, and now, for some odd reason, had started speaking in Harper's voice.

She didn't even want to guess at what that meant.

So she did busy work. And she waited for the ship to be ready. And she was bored outa her wits. 

She logged onto the ships systems for no other reason than to kill some time. Went through weeks old mail. Nothing of importance. Ran the usage rates for ship-stock and double checked her supply figures. Pulled up the onboard-library. Not a very big one, but it had come in useful when she hit an unfamiliar phenomena, or had to deal with a species she didn't really know, or care to. She had been the protocol officer on her Father's Maru…a job she admittedly wasn't very good at and didn't like. (The clients tended to take offense when told they could either keep their mouths shut and cope, or find themselves taking a long walk out of the nearest air-lock.)

She put a search into the library for graphics of known gang symbols—all planets, stations and drifts, starting with the ones who had inter-stellar connections. If she couldn't get a straight answer from Harper, she'd just get the information another way. She figured, between where she had found him, and what he might've done to get put there, gangs were a good place to start.

The computer hummed, working. She waited. … And waited…She started drumming her fingers. "You've gotta be kidding me…" She stopped the search when the hit count had reached 11,594, with only half of the symbol database searched. 

"Okay… that's not gonna happen." Sighing, she closed the search and thought for a moment. Then picked up a flexy and stylus and quickly sketched Harper's brand. She downloaded the figure, and told the computer to search the library for any gang symbols matching the basic structure of the design.

The computer hummed. Blipped. Total match to search parameters—0.

She blinked. Okay, so either the symbol had nothing to do with a gang (doubtful), or it wasn't in her library. That was possible. Probable even. Her copy of the library was not only small, but old. There would have been many changes in the newer versions. She made a mental note to use some of the money for a library upgrade.

On a lark, because she was bored, she told the computer to search the library for anything matching the basic structure of the design.

The computer hummed again. A little longer this time. Blipped. Total match to search parameters—43.

Okay, that was surprising. Curious, she opened the file and started to leaf through it. Not like it would have anything. Harper had probably gotten drunk one night and gotten the damned thing because some girl had told him it would look sexy-- 

"Oh God."

Beka's eyes widened. There it was, page three of four, and eighth symbol down. Perfect circle; sharpened, stylized 's', bisected by three slashes.

And printed next to it: Inmate identification brand. Shark Pride- Xerxes refugee camp. Research.

"Oh hell. The kid's a mudfoot." For a moment it didn't register, didn't sink in… then it hit her. Exactly what coming from Earth meant, in this day and age. "Oh God," she repeated dully, starring blankly at the screen as if will alone could change the stark fact written on the screen. Feeling guilty for just knowing this about him, for digging into his past like this. Did she tell him she knew? Tell him it was all right? God, did that sound as bad as she thought? Like it was okay with her that he had lived in torment, she didn't mind. 

She swallowed, telling herself to toughen up. She was the captain here, and she had a right to investigate her crew. She'd had every right to make sure it wasn't a gang symbol or something like that, something that hinted that he was dangerous. She sighed, hating that she felt like she should apologize for doing her job.

But did she feel better? Now that she knew he wasn't some gang-banging serial killer who was just waiting to get them out here in the middle of nowhere before he offed her and Tev and ate their hearts?

No. She didn't feel better. The brand on his arm that declared him the property of a Nietzschean war-lord and a resident of a 'refugee' camp, was his business, not hers, and she felt guilty and miserable.

She was so completely out of her depth here. She dropped her head onto her arms. No wonder the kid tried to keep it hidden. His childhood probably made hers look like a long, joyous walk though a beatific park.

Divinity. 

The computer bleeped at her again. She lifted her head slightly, for some reason vaguely glad she'd muted its voice before she started this project. A message box popped up. It read simply: 'Communications Link Established'. She blinked. Okay, she knew she was a little slow today, but…huh? "Computer, who's accessed the communication relays?" 

Another text box answered her. 'Unknown'.

Her eyes narrowed. "Computer, what password was used to establish contact?" 

The communications system could be accessed by any computer in the ship—both the intercom system and the external communications worked off of the same relays. But a log was kept here in the hub, the captain's station, of any incoming or outgoing messages. A log that identified the user by each crew member's password.

Another text response: 'Unable to Reply. Inapplicable.'

Someone on her ship was sending messages, and not identifying themselves to the computer. Without a password, the transmission wouldn't even have been logged. She would never have known it if she hadn't been sitting right here in front of the screen. Very clever. And who did she know who was very clever?

Bad luck for him, good for her. She could live with that.

"Computer, intercept message. Send it to this terminal."

'Cannot Comply. Unknown veritable 'Message'.'

Super. The little shit had masked the signal. The computer knew that communications had been activated, but couldn't find a known communications signal, because it had been scrambled. It was times like these she wished she could afford a real AI system for the Maru. 

She wondered if she could catch the message herself. "Computer, how was the communications system accessed? Run a TraceRoute." If she could see where the message was coming from she might be able to catch it.

A brief list filled her screen. The little rat had wormed into the system through the mail folders. She quickly opened them looking for anything that look even a little out of the ordinary, but before she found anything another text box appeared.

'Relay Successful. Access Terminated'.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit! Computer, where was communications accessed from?" The words were a hiss.

'Relay Opened in Engine Room, 19:27'.

No real surprise there. Bastard. And to think she had started to feel…sympathetic toward him. Guilty about invading his privacy. Fuck.

She stood up and went over to a locked cabinet. Unlocking it, she pulled her Gauss gun out of its container. Strapping it on felt like hugging a very old friend. She would check the engine room first, but she wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't there. She would've been as far away from there as possible by now.

She could live with a kid who wasn't really trustworthy, she wasn't either. She could overlook his weirder tendencies, she understood that's how it was with genius types. She could even put up with the stealing, to a certain point. 

But he had betrayed the ship. *Nobody* got away with that.

~~*~~

Harper was singing quietly. "She'll be coming 'round the mountains when she comes. She'll be coming 'round the mountains…"

It was all but finished. His jammer. And it could even simulate the bio-electricity of human nerve endings. At least, he was pretty sure it could. All of it, cobbled together from nipped parts. And in less than four weeks. In between his other work. 

He was a freakin' genius.

A few last connections, and he could start trying to figure out just how he was gonna get his arm open. Beka had said there were med kits in every room, so maybe they had some sort of pain killer…

His door slammed open and he spun, almost, almost, dropping his jammer.

At the sight of a gun, his body went on automatic… which was a good thing, because his brain was locked-up. Without thought, he stuffed the jammer, a delicate, cylindrical device about five and a half inches long and two and a half wide, down the back of his pants, thankful again, that one of the underrated features of big, baggy over-shirts is that they hid bulges.

Only then did he allow himself to focus on the figure coming through the door, on the other side of the gun.

"Beka?…What the hell…"

"Shut the fuck up." Her voice was cold and her eyes glittered dangerously.

Harper shut up.

"Who were you contacting?"

"Wh-what?"

She snarled. "I know you broke into the communications system just now, you little bastard. Who. were. you. contacting?"

He panicked. For a moment he panicked. "Boss, I don't know what you're talkin' about. I've been in here all day, or well mostly all day—'cos I had to build the retaining wall—and okay, I told you it would take longer than it did on purpose, 'cos I wanted some, uh, personal time and if I had known you'd take it this bad, I'd, uh, just asked, ya' know—"

He broke off as she grabbed him and threw him against the wall, gun never wavering from his head. He went with the momentum, twisting at the last second so that he hit his shoulder and hip, rather then his back, and what was hidden there.

The gun was back in his face. "I asked you a question."

He finally started to get pissed off. She had almost shattered his jammer. Almost taken away the only thing that could save him. He straightened, meeting her eyes squarely, ignoring the gun. 

"Fuck you. I told you. I didn't send any message today. And if I had, *you* wouldn't've found it."

She glared at him, breathing hard. "The only thing keeping you alive right now is that I'm gonna need you to rebuild the drive after we make the run." She reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "I told myself not to like you." She hissed the words in his ear.

Pushing him into the hall, she continued, "Tev is stripping one of the supply closets for you. That is where you will stay until we need you. If you behave for the rest of this trip, I'll let you live. After we get back, if you make it that far, I want you off my fucking ship and outta my life. Permanently. Clear?" She jabbed him with the Gauss.

"Crystal." He didn't fight. It wouldn't do any good right now. But he wondered just where the hell was that rabbit-hole he had fallen into.

~~*~~


	9. Early Days: Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Owns it? Owns what? Can anyone *really* own anything?

Tribune holds the paper on this though. I don't

Notes: Sorry about the wait. This story is getting harder to write as I go. I thought it would get easier. I think … I know… I'm pretty frightened that the longer I write on it, the more likely I am to write it …wrong. I guess I'm still struggling with the idea that this is my story, and I can't do it wrong---badly maybe, but not wrong. Hmmm. 

Thanks to Konayn, Antares, Spooky-girl, Amelia, Raven (lol okay, okay, I get the point. Sorry bg), Wolf Call, Starfish, Iverson, and Parisindy (lol g). Glad you guys are still here and hope you are after this chapter. Really, the encouragement means a lot to me. ::smile:: Thanks everybody!

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

:: standing confused in the dark::

~~*~~

"So…you think he did it?" Tev asked quietly as they walked back upstairs, Harper ensconced in a bare metal closet behind them.

"No, Tev," Beka snarled, "I just pulled a gun on him and threw him into a cage because I'm PMS'ing. Yes, I think he did it. Who the hell else could it have been?"

Amber eyes flashed, to her and away again. Tev was nervous. Beka could feel it. Not that she blamed her. Valentines were not known as stable people at the best of times. And Tev had known her father and brother. 

"It's just… well… I hate to lock him up like that. He looked so…" 

"He looked pissed as hell." Beka could at least respect that, the kid was defiant to the last. "But he's been talkin' to somebody outside this ship, and he won't tell us who or why, and that's more then enough to keep him in that box till he rots!" She stomped into the bridge. "Now I don't want to hear any more about it. Take your station. The retaining wall's up, and we're goin' in."

Tev hesitantly cleared her throat. "Wouldn't you like to take a few minutes, first? Calm down—"

"I am calm," Bake broke her off with a sweet tone. "But we're way behind schedule, I have a turncoat in my closet, and if my crew doesn't start cooperating with my orders, I'm not gonna *stay* calm. We go now."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Tev scurried to her station.

Beka refused to feel guilty about that, either. She sat in the pilots chair and strapped in tight.

"Initiating Midas run." Tev announced, pulling on her own straps. Midas had seemed an appropriate name for the commuter controlled timing sequence as any.

"Opening slipstream. Brace for transit." Beka took a deep breath, and push the button. The slipstream portal blossomed in front of the Maru. "Cross your fingers." With a surge of something between fear and exhilaration, she pushed the ship over the threshold.

Wild ride didn't even *start* to cover it. For the first few seconds the stream seemed normal, even, easy. Then it curved suddenly, sharply, bending toward the stellar nursery, flowing in the gravitation of a thousand clustered stars, and Beka found herself trying to navigate a maelstrom. 

It flipped, twisted, and Beka rode it. It bucked—suddenly reversed direction, and she went with it. Nothing existed but the stream. The stream offered her her dreams, if could keep up with it. If she was willing—capable-- of keeping up. It demeaned everything from her. And she surrendered herself completely, feeling the stream-- the ebbs, the flows, the *current* of it, in a way she never had before. When it twisted, she knew. When it rolled, turning almost upside down, she went with it. It spoke, and she listened. She knew it was going to buck a second before it did, because of the way the fringes bunched. Knew it was going to swing sideways; she could predict it by the feel of the Maru, the way it veered off center, instant before it curved. 

She felt it when they hit the bulge. The stream felt…sluggish, as part of it pulled away, eddying. She yanked the Maru into that swirl. Muttered, "now," as the computer readings triggered the second slip, forcing a fissure into the wall of the stream.

Feedback whined. The Maru shuddered as the stream flared, sparking and spitting. The eddy burst open like a tin can in zero g at the same time as the Maru shook, something below exploding noisily.

The Maru lurched, as it was pulled, tumbling haphazardly, through the hole. Tossed end over end by the forced of two suddenly colliding streams, Beka fought the yokes, trying desperately to level out, to regain control, to keep them all from getting lost in the slipstream for divinity knew how long.

Finally, finally, she pulled them stable. "Where?" she gasped, fighting her stomach. "Where are we…?" 

She couldn't let go of the yokes long enough to check the boards. "Tev?" They were still in the stream… or *a* stream anyway. It bucked a twisted as well. But slowly it seemed to be leveling out. Smoothing out. Question was… "Tev? If your breathing, get up and see to the boards…I need to know where we are!"

They could be anywhere. They could be heading right into the center of the freakin' nursery. "Tev!"

"Here! I'm here…" She gave a coughing groan. "I think I'm gonna be sick, but I'm here."

"Good. You okay?"

"Yeah." Dry tone. Beka grinned.

"Then where are we?" The stream became straight, slick. Perfect for an exit. Beka guided the Maru out, as Tev reported.

"We're right on target." 

The stream spit them out into calm space. Behind and to the right they could just see the edges of the wisp. In front sat a station, spinning gently, slightly marred with rust, but otherwise perfect. 

"You did it Beka." There was both joy, and not a little surprise in Tev's voice.

Beka was breathing too hard to respond.

~~*~~

Harper felt the Maru shudder. Felt the familiar doubling sensation that came with traversing the stream. Looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, tacking down the last of the connection with tiny screws pulled from the now empty metal shelves lining the walls.

"She's doing it *now*?" Rolling his eyes, he quickly finished stripping the wire and wrapped the bare copper around the tiny screw. The ship jerked. The screw came out. Cursing he realigned the hole, and painstakingly tightened it down. When the wire met the active board, a red light started blinking.

"Yes! Not as good as a soldering tack, but the oldies still work." The ship jerked again, hard enough that he fell backwards, smacking his head on the floor, careful to keep the device from getting jarred. 

"God damnit! I just got this thing working! If you make me break it, Beka, so help me…" he got up, rubbing his head. If she stuck to the plans they'd made, the ride was gonna get a hell of a lot rougher. He looked around the makeshift cell.

Bare walls. They had been careful to put him in a room with no access panels. Empty metal shelves, bolted tightly to the far wall. A pile of blankets in the corner, a nest to somewhat pad his ride. Two bottles of water sitting next to the blankets. 

All in all, he couldn't complain. It was a nice set-up, and if his situation had been even slightly less desperate he might've curled up for a nap. 

The Maru jerked again.

Or not. 

Working quickly he grabbed a blanket and wrapped his jammer in it. Then he bundled it into a cubby-hole under the shelves. Pushed it to make sure it would stay put. Then, his salvation protected he wedged himself under the shelves, hoping to keep from getting tossed around like a particle in an excelerator.

A brief bit from an old vid he had seen once flashed though his mind: Buckle up Honey, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

The ship shuddered, jerked, turned into a thrill-ride of epic proportions.

He rode it out, eyes, clenched tight against the disorientation. When the drive blew, he felt it vibrating in the walls. When the Maru tumbled, he was knocked loose, slamming painfully into the metal shelves and struts. Winded by the blow to his ribcage, he tried to gasp. But his muscles seized, and he managed to pull only a thin stream of air…which he lost again as he smacked into the wall, striking his head and knee. 

Blindly he grabbed at something, anything, and felt a deep burn in his arm as it hit something solid, something stable. He snatched, pulled himself close, clung there as the ship slowly, slowly, righted itself. He sat on the floor, trying to get his breath back as the ride smoothed, then the ship gave that subtle shiver, and he knew they were out of the stream.

"I wonder where we are?" he asked no one.

Carefully, he started to probe his ribs, wondering how much damage he had done. But as soon as he lifted his arm, he blinked.

He was bleeding. 

"Oh, now that's just freakin' *perfect." Sighing he inspected the wound, hissing as he began to feel it. It was deep but narrow, running across his arm, just below the elbow. "Just perfect." 

Wait. No. It was. Perfect, that was. He scrambled to his feet, tracing his own blood. He found it behind one of the support struts for the shelves. The back side of the beam hadn't been made correctly, and was jagged. That was what he'd cut his arm on, when he'd grabbed the shelves for support.

He thought about it for almost five seconds before making his decision. This might be his only chance. If (when) Beka came looking for him to fix the slipstream drive, she would see his arm, and most likely find the ragged metal. If that happened, she might lock him up somewhere else… somewhere where he'd never find anything this sharp. And if she locked him up for the rest of the trip… they were already two weeks behind schedule. He'd never get back to the Fungus inside the time limit. So if he *didn't* do this, Even if they left for home right now, somewhere near the Dergas Asteroid field—kaboom.

He ran his hand gently up the beam. The edges scratched at his palm. Then he bumped into it. A piece had bent outward, sharp, and long enough to do the job.

It's not like he didn't know how to cause himself pain to get the job done. He was used to it. He did it every time he used his port.

This was the same deal… just bloodier.

He probed his arm and the device buried in it, trying to get a feel for just how long a cut he needed. How deep. Too far, and he risked severing an artery, or triggering the device. If it didn't go deep enough, he would have to do this twice. Nuh-uh. No thank you. Finally, he could put it off on longer. Taking a deep breath, he positioned his arm over the jagged point.

Swung his arm forward sharply. Yelped as the shard drove in. Biting his lip, he yanked backward from his shoulder, dragging his arm across the metal. 

Collapsed, shivering, when he thought it was far enough. 

He sat a few moments, just breathing, getting control of the pain. Then examined the bloody furrow running down his arm. Not deep, but ragged. It wouldn't heal pretty. At the upper edge, the edge nearest his elbow, he could see a glint of blood covered silver. 

"Gotcha, you little bastard." Panting slightly, bleeding arm tucked up against his chest, he half-crawled over to the wad of blankets. Being careful not to stain them, he couldn't afford to buy Beka new ones, he picked through them until he found his jammer.

He checked the device quickly for damage, then switched it on. It purred. "I am a god," he chuckled, still holding his bleeding arm stiffly against him. He straightened out his arm, prepared the device and—"And just how the hell am I gonna get it out one handed?"

~~*~~

Beka had been down to the engine room, and while it wasn't pretty, it could've been worse. 

Much worse, really, if Harper hadn't put that barrier right where he had. That stupid wall had pretty much broken the force of the blast, so that they were only dealing with a hole on the slipstream drive…not a hole in the outer hull. She hated to admit it (God, did she hate to admit it) but the boy really knew his stuff.

Too bad the boy genius was a turncoat. She could've used somebody like him.

She must be more tired then she thought (is that possible?) to be thinking like that. She didn't need the boy. Didn't need the hassle. Didn't need the responsibility. Didn't want it. The only reason she had come down here to *escort* him to the engine room to start his repairs was because she didn't trust Tev to be tough enough on him.

Tev had offered. 'You go get some sleep, Beka. I'll supervise the kid.' Yeah, right. And feed him, and give him whatever he wanted. 

So here Beka was, unlocking the closet door when she really wanted to be in bed, because the engineer needed to check out the damage as soon as possible, and he couldn't be trusted to be on his own.

Her life sucked sometimes. 

She was yawning as she pushed the door open. "Okay, Harper, enough lounging around, you need to see the engine room—"

She broke off as she saw the blood. Splattered on the floor and walls. And Harper was crouched in the middle of it, digging at his bleeding arm. "What in the name of the Vedrin Empress--?"

Her first thought was suicide. That he had somehow tried to slit his wrists and was doing a piss poor job of it. She was shocked at how the thought made her blood run cold.

"Quit staring and give me a hand --or do you want me to bleed to death?" he snapped, digging at his wounded arm. 

Well, that answered that. She dropped onto the floor next to him. "What happened?" 

"I happened," he panted, still digging at his arm. Not looking at her.

"What?" She blinked at the response. Of course, with the amount of blood on the floor, she wasn't sure if she should be expecting coherent answers. She tried to knock his good hand away from the gash. "Stop that. You're supposed to hold the cut closed, not pull it open."

He snatched the arm away from her. "If I didn't want it open, I wouldn't've cut it in the first place."

"You did this on purpose?" 

"Yes," he said, still prodding his arm.

"*Why*?"

"Seemed easier then gnawing it off at the elbow?"

She leaned over his arm, looking into the gash he was still trying to pull open. Inside she could see the glimmer of metal. "What is that?"

"A leash," he gasped, but his hands were steady as he reached over and picked up a device from the floor. Tiny lights on it flashed as he used his thumb to pop the already open end free. "That," he gestured at his arm, "has to be touching me or the container at all times. Got it?"

She nodded. "And if it slips?"

"The Maru goes boom. Help me?"

Swallowing, she took his arm, fingers on either side of the gash and slowly, gently pulled it open. Harper hissed, eyes closed tight.

"You okay?"

"No," his voice wavered, but he seamed steady enough.

She nodded and, as gently as she could, reached into the gash. He shuddered. She pulled the upper end of the implant free, and he slid the container onto it. Then she yanked, sliding it out of his arm and into the device. Harper immediately jerked away from her, using both hands to close the device and checking the settings.

"It's okay. It's good. The pulse is holding." As if that explained everything he leaned back against the wall, eyes closing.

"Hey. No sleeping till you tell me what's going on." Her tone was harsh, but really she was half-worried he was getting shocky. There was no med-kit in here. She sighed and picked up one of the blankets. She lifted it, getting ready to tare it, but he spoke.

"Beka. No." She looked up at him. He was bloody and hollow eyed and obviously hurting. "That's a good blanket. It'll stop bleeding pretty soon. Don't ruin a good blanket."

"Are you serious?" She asked, exasperated. He just looked at her.

Looking him in the eyes, she tore the blanket. He winced at the sound. 

She used the strip to wrap his arm tightly. Clamped his good hand around it. "Stay here, and keep pressure on it."

She stood and went quickly to the nearest room, tearing the med-kit off the wall and carrying it back to him. He was where she had left him, leaning against the wall, looking scandalized.

She knelt down, opening the med-kit. "What?"

He sighed, watching as she started unwrapping the bloody strip of blanket. "It's just… sometimes it's so different…"

She pulled some sterile wipes out of the kit. "What is?"

"Everything." He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "In most of the places I've lived, people would kill for a blanket like that. Could mean the difference between life and death on cold nights. And you just rip it up like it's nothing." 

She sighed. "Like it's a rag, Seamus. Just a rag." She started to clean out the gash. "Was it that way in the camps?"

He jerked upright, arm twisting in her hands. He hissed in pain. "Wh-what?"

She shrugged, tossing the dirty wipes onto the floor, and reaching for some adhesive strips. "I know about your brand."

"Oh." Dead voice. He leaned back against the wall again. "How?"

"Looked it up on the computer. Hold still." She put another strip in place.

"Ah," he closed his eyes again. "And…?"

She shrugged, "And nothing. I figure it's your business."

He sighed. "Thank you."

She picked up the antibiotic ointment, "Is that were you got this?" She asked, meaning the implant that had been under the wound.

His head came up again, glaring at her. "Don't think you understand my life, 'cos you've seen this. 'Cos you've seen a printout on a computer screen. Don't think you know."

She shrugged, not biting. "I was just asking." She worked the ointment in. 

He winced, arm twitching in her hands. The he sighed, letting his head roll back again. "No. This was a gift from the Fungus. Had to keep me under his thumb somehow."

"A leash," she said remembering his earlier words,.

"Yeah." His voice was hollow with exhaustion, and he had his good arm over his eyes.

She bit back all of the question she had. She could get answers out of him later, after all, she had the only ride home. "Headache?"

"You have *no* idea."

Sighing, she finished raping his arm, and dug into the med-kit for some pain-killers. "Here, these should help." He looked at them for a moment, then reached out. And she pulled back slightly. He looked her in the eye, knowingly. "Was it him you were contacting? The Fungus?"

He sighed and looked… almost disappointed in her. That was all right, she was a little disappointed in herself. "Yeah, I have. But I still didn't make any call today. That *wasn't* me." 

She sighed. Lamest excuse in history. But he was pale and shaking and obviously in pain. She guessed he just wasn't up to originality right now. She handed him the pills, and he dry swallowed them.

"C'mon," she said then, getting a shoulder under his arm. "Let's get you to your bunk."

He staggered to his feet, swaying slightly. "Aren't I staying here?" 

"Nope. In this shape you're about as dangerous as a feather. A stiff breeze could knock you down."

"What about the engine room?" His voice slurred slightly.

"I think we need a break. Tev's bringing us into the station on thrusters, and you really couldn't do anything until we get there anyway." She angled him out of the door. "Just don't ask me to tuck you in."

~~*~~


	10. Early Days: Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda. Not even close--though if I lived in that universe, I think I'd end up as Harper, the way my life goes. ::sigh:: 

Notes: Sorry about the wait again. Technical difficulties. This is a little short, but I hope, *hope*, to have another part out this evening.

Thanks to Konayn, Mary Rose, Parisindy bg, Iverson (lol g glad to make you happy !), Brat64 (thanks), Raven (Thanks for the advice, I may be using it in the near future :^)), Amelia (lol Harper's glad too), Spooky-girl (I'm glad), Antares(g thanks!), and Stefanie Dale (lolPlan? I have a Plan? Now I'm wondering what you're thinking g). Really, the encouragement means a lot to me. ::smile:: Thanks.

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

Just a reminder:

Early Days

By: Ghost

Chapter 9~

~~*~~

__

*hisssss--click*

*boom—creak. hisssss*

The ship shuddered, as Harper's eyes snapped open.

Dock. They had docked. He knew the sound and feel of it even in this strange ship.

How long…? His eyes sought out the chron on the wall. 06:53. Seven hours. He had slept for seven hours. He never slept that long. Or that deep. He had slept almost all the way through dock—a noisy, jarring process. Not good, he thought, stumbling from his bunk. Not good at all.

His brain felt sluggish, groggy. It had to be the pain-killers. Taken on an empty stomach, and after blood-loss, they had hit his system like a ton of bricks. In less then an hour he'd been down for the count.

Not that they weren't sounding good right now. His arm throbbed hotly, it time with his heartbeat. And his head ached, feeling tender and heavy, like it was packed with hot, jagged rocks.

But no more pills, he thought irritably, awkwardly pulling on his shirt, one-handed. They pulled him too far under. Pain could be lived with, letting down his guard was deadly. There had been a day when he would never have been so relaxed, so *lax*. Back on Earth when everyone had been hunting him, and he'd had to fight for every new day. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was going soft. First he'd let himself get set-up and handed over to the Fungus, now he gets made by Beka for something that he could've done (much better) but didn't, and then allowed himself to be drugged into a deep sleep. Christ. At this rate he was lucky he was still breathing.

He ran his good hand through sleep tangled hair and wondered if other people his age felt so…used up and burnt out.

Not that he knew his age, exactly. 

Sighing he left his room in search of Beka or breakfast…which ever he ran into first.

~~*~~

She was sitting at the galley table, cup of coffee in front of her. Super, he could eat and get shot at the same time. One stop shopping. 

He nodded a greeting to her muttered 'good-morning', and pulled open the 'fridge. Sealed containers held egg constitute, sausage, some leftover caned fruit. He looked over his shoulder. "You and Tev had breakfast?"

She nodded, turning her cup in small, precise circles on the table. "Just before we came into dock. We would've woken you, but you seemed to need the sleep more." She gestured at the 'fridge. "Go ahead and warm some up. You can eat while we talk."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." He muttered the words, and stuck the containers in the warmer. Set the fruit on the table, and grabbed utensils in time for the warmer to go ding. Sausage and eggs joined the fruit, and he sat, staring at the plates.

"What?" she asked, obviously confused that he hadn't started wolfing the food like normal.

He shrugged, giving her a half-smile. "I somehow get the feeling I'm gonna loose my appetite as soon as you start talking."

"Then you should eat now." She didn't argue with him. He sighed, knowing his morning had just gone from low to truly bad.

He scooped some faux-eggs onto his fork. "So…?"

"So." She shifted slightly. It dawned on him, she really wasn't all that much older then him. At least, he didn't think so…. "Wanta tell me what's going on?"

"Not really?" He looked at her. She wasn't amused. He sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"You and Tosand?"

He took another bite. The eggs were cold in the middle. "Me and the Fungus? Well, we dated for awhile, but in the end we knew it wouldn't last. He was rotting, and I was busy pursuing my career—"

"Seamus…" There was a hint of a warning growl in her voice."

He dropped his fork. "Well, what the hell do you think! He *owned* my ass. I didn't have a lot of choice about anything. Do you think I *wanted* that think in my arm? Do you think I wanted any of this?"

She set back slightly. Sighed. "Easy, Harper. Eat while you've got the chance." She watched him as he dug back into the food, without enthusiasm. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way." She smiled bitterly, "I have to admit, I can't really read you. I'm not used to that. It's throwing me off a bit."

He shrugged. "You're not exactly transparent either, you know." 

"Which is part of the problem. We're… kinda alike, in some ways. It's knocking us for a loop. Both of us are used to playing things close to the vest. Keeping our mouths shut and our eyes open. Of being the *least* trustworthy person in the room. We're clashing. But…" She leaned forward, eyes glittering slightly, "We don't have to be. I think we could work well together. We could both walk out of this situation with…more then we had going in." She leaned back again, crossing her arms over her chest. "But for that to happen, I have to know who's behind my back. And why he's back there. 

"In short, either you came clean with me, and Tev and I cut you in on the deal, or you spend the next few weeks locked in the damned closet, except for the times we take you down to work on the engines under heavy guard."

She looked at him, "Either way. I really don't care. I like you, Harper. In spite of myself, I do. Divinity only knows why I should like a short, dishonest, annoying, little genius, but I do. You should take the deal, Harper. I'll only offer it once."

He looked at her, trying to gage the offer, and it's truth, by her eyes. He sighed. "How much do you want to know?"

"Tosand."

He stirred his eggs. "Not much to know. The device is called a clip. He used it to keep us in the shop. When he sent me out here, he told me to report our progress… and if it looked like you were going to renege on the deal. So the family would have the heads up."

She nodded slightly, as if she had expected that. She sipped at her coffee. "What have you told him so far?"

"Nothing. My last message was almost four days ago, and we were sitting dead."

She looked up, a hint of anger in her eyes. "I thought we were being honest here, Harper."

He rolled his eyes, he couldn't help it. "I *am* being honest! Whatever message you think you stumbled across yesterday, it wasn't me!"

She slammed her cup down, surging to her feet, hands braced against the table. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know how to run a TraceRoute. You sent a message yesterday, from the engine room, and routed it through the mail folders."

He growled in complete frustration. "Why the hell would I go through the mail folders? Only a rank amateur would go through the mail folders! And though I may be a lot of things, no ones *ever* called me an amateur."

It was Beka's turn to roll her eyes, "And just how would a super genius do it."

Harper shoved himself away from the table, and pulling open the access, pointed out the new jack. "Surprise number two: that may look like an ordinary jack, but look at the sub-circuitry, boss," he snarled.

Beka pushed him out of the way, looking at what he had pointed out. Then she looked up, gazing at his port, before meeting his eyes. "You rigged my ship with a bio-cyber interface? And stuck it in the galley?"

He shrugged, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And you used this to send your messages to Tosand?"

He nodded, watching her warily.

"So, if I believe you-- which I'm not saying I do, 'cos you could've just gotten impatient and used the engine room—you really didn't send that message yesterday."

"That's what I've been saying!" He knew he sounded exasperated. Hell, he *was* exasperated.

She looked at him flatly. "Well, if you didn't send it, then who did?"

Harper rolled his eyes again. Beka just brought it out in him. "How the fuck should I know? I was locked in a closet all day." Turning, he pulled a Sparkly out of the fridge, not feeling at all guilty about it. This one, he felt he'd earned.

As he opened it, taking a bracing swig, the comm went off. 

"Beka? I've got the EVU's ready. We're prepped to go in." Tev barked over the comm.

Beka looked at him, her thoughts plain to read in her eyes.

He shrugged. She frowned. 

There was no trace of it in her voice as she answered, though. "Thanks, Tev. Prince Charming has awoken and will grace us with his presence. We'll be down in five." She logged off the comm. Looked at him. 

"Tev's been with me for a long time."

He shrugged again, looking away.

"She worked with my dad before me."

He didn't answer.

  
"Can you use that," she gestured at the port, "to find out if she's been in the system?"

He nodded. "If she's been there, I can find it."

Beka pulled in a deep breath, running a frustrated hand through her longish hair. "Fine. Good. But not right now. We're going into the station, and she'll…wonder if we're not at the airlock like now."

He nodded, tossing the now empty soda can into the recycler. Started out the door.

When Beka grabbed his arm. "But later…we need to get together."

He nodded. And followed her to the airlock.

~~*~~ 

To trust, or not to trust. That was the question.

Or maybe it was just *who* to trust. Tev, who had worked on her father's Maru, who had been the only to stick with her after he died, who had been her trusted friend and ally for years. —Or a snot-nosed brat, who had enough demons to fill hell running around in his head, who was an admitted thief, liar, and spy, who had no reason *not* to point the finger at the only other available target. And who, she admitted, she felt an odd sort of connection to.

It didn't seem like a hard decision did it?

She sighed, looking at the two of them helping each other into their EVU's.

No, it didn't *seem* hard. 

She sealed the last seam on her suit and checked her air supply. The turned to her, waiting for orders. Tev was closing her helmet, and Harper, was just putting his on.

Taking a deep breath, she waited until the were ready, and triggered the airlock, opening the door into the station for the first time in over three hundred years. 

"Guys?" They looked at her. "Don't get dead."

They both nodded, stepping into the eerily still station bay.

"Here we go." Beka muttered, and, mind full of worries, heart full of doubts, stepped out of the Maru after her crew.

~~*~~


	11. Early Days: Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Does anybody out there really think, even for a moment, that Andromeda belongs to me, and not to Tribune? Lets see a show of hands…. I didn't think so. 

Notes: I'm gonna stop telling you how soon I'll get the next part out. It seems like, if I promise, I get bogged down, while when I said I might never finish, I got out a chapter a day. So I *won't* get another one out. (waits to see if the muses bite).

Oh and the plot (yes, I found the plot, it was hiding under the bed, 'cos it knew I was gonna mangle it) takes a turn toward the silly here. If this plot seems too… predicable :P …to you, let me know, Please?, and I'll drop back ten and punt. 

Thanks to Techgrrl (I will, thanks. I'll clear those up in editing as well. :^) ), Starfish (g Sorry?), Stefanie Dale (g are you sure?), Amelia, Becky (thanks), Iverson (hope you feel better), Raven (g thanks), Spooky-girl (Well, we know Beka and Harper have to live g), and Parisindy bg. I can't tell you how much your notes mean to me. Thanks. ::smile::

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

:::NOTE::: Small re-write. Sorry for the wait, everybody. Was dealing with a slight case of pneumonia. But I'm not dead yet! I'm feeling better! I think…

___________________________________________________________________________________

~~*~~

"Hey, Boss, this place is dead." Harper's tone was full of gallows humor.

The halls were dark, quiet, still. Dust puffed under their feet, flaring in their flashlights. Bad enough by itself, worse when you realized the dust was probably the desiccated remains of the stations three hundred year old crew. The only sound, other then Harper's voice over the comm, was the pull and hiss of their re-breathers.

She winced at what he said. "Oh that's respectful." She wiped the grime from a brass plate set in the wall. _'Level 3- Red- Habitat Ring'_.

"Trust me, Boss, they don't care." He sounded tired…and almost sad.

"Just…run the scans, Harper." 

"No prob." He pulled the device out of the tool belt strapped to his waist. "But I can tell ya' right now, there's oxygen."

Tev tossed her head, flashlights glaring on the elongated muzzle of her helmet. "And how would you know that?"

"The bodies decayed. They wouldn't have done that if the environment was a vacuum." He hadn't looked up from the scanner. "Bingo. Breathable atmosphere." He pulled a face. "That is if you want to take your helmet off and get to know the former neighbors up close and personal."

"Thanks, but no." She flashed her light around a corner. "I think we keep our safety gear on, troops."

"Like that's a hardship," Tev muttered, nose wrinkling.

Harper snorted, "So, Boss, what's the word? What are we doing?"

She swallowed, trying to decide if one dark, lonesome hall looked any more inviting than another. "Well, as much as I'd like to go shopping, the Maru comes first. Tev, you have the maps, which way to the engine bay?" 

~~*~~

Harper was like a kid in a candy-store. 

"Wow! Look'it that! It's a full set! I've never seen a full set!" And the tools, which Beka couldn't identify, went in his bag. "Ooo. A coolant pump. And it's not even been rebuilt. You want this, Boss. Trust me."

He meant nothing by the words, but they jarred Beka. Irritated, she snapped, "Can you focus, Harper? We need to locate a slipstream drive, not fill your tool-box."

"And one mutually excludes the other?" But he sighed, sticking another random article in his belt-pouch. "Okay, okay. One slipstream drive coming up." He led them deeper into the bay. To a door that opened into a hanger. A plaque on the door read _'Level 6- Blue- Hanger and Engineering'_.

"Harper…" Tev growled, sounding confused and worried. "The drive? I'd like the Maru to be able to get us out of here if something happens."

"Relax, Tev. The station won't have a drive. Stations don't ride the stream. But these beauties…" The hanger was filled with small crafts—everything from one person fighters to medium shipping freighters. Beka could feel herself start to drool. "Do you know how much just *one* of these would go for on the black market…"

"Focus, Beka," Harper's tone was teasing.

She sighed melodramatically. "I guess there's always tomorrow. So which do we raid?"

Harper pointed, "That one looks about the Maru's size. Its drive should be about right."

"So, let's get to work. The sooner we fix the Maru, the sooner we can start looting this place." 

"That was crass." Tev muttered.

"What was?" Beka asked.

"Looting."

"Yeah," Harper interrupted. "I much prefer the term 'glean'."

"Same thing."

"Yeah, but it sounds…nicer. Glean, gleaning, to glean…"

"Harper, carrion eaters 'glean'. Salvagers… reclaim misplaced and abandoned articles." Tev tossed her head again.

"I'll remember that if I ever run into some salvagers." 

Beka rolled her eyes as she followed Tev and Harper onto the small freighter.

~~*~~

Three hours and much cursing later, Harper finally pulled the drive free of its housing. "Got it. Gotcha sweetheart. Time to move to your new home." Panting, he set it on the floor and dropped down next to it, wishing he could reach his eyes to rub the sweat out of them.

While Tev stared at the engine doubtfully, a portable computer unit in her gloved paws.

"What?" Harper demanded.

"Nothing," she looked startled, as if she had forgotten he was there. "It's just…it's three hundred years old. How can it still be in working condition?" She shoved the portable into her pocket

"It's not the years, it's the mileage." 

"Huh?"

Harper sighed, "Nobody out here knows the classics. The machinery may be three hundred years old, but it has almost *no* ware on it. It's pretty much pristine. A little cleaning, and it'll be fine. What I'm worried about is getting it to communicate with the Maru's computer. There's gonna be a definite language barrier."

"But you can make it work, right?" Her hand hovered near her belt-pouch.

"Baby, I can make *anything* work." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, the gesture almost lost behind his helmet.

She gave a sniffling laugh. "I bet you make more problems than anything else." Her hand fell away from her belt as she stood. 

"Me? Make problems? I'm hurt you'd even think that." He stood as well, stretching the muscles in his back.

"Even I don't believe that." Beka said, coming into the ship. 

"Then would ya' believe that I've thrown my back out, so you guys'll have to carry the drive back to the Maru by yourselves?"

Beka laughed. "Nice try. You don't get out of it that easy Harper."

Sighing, he bent down and got a grip on the engine. "It was worth a shot."

Tev looked at him from the other side. "Just remember to lift with your legs."

Harper actually groaned. 

"On three." Beka took her place. "Three!"

They heaved, and the drive labored toward the door.

~~*~~

"Harper!"

He jerked upward. Not a good idea, since he was crammed in the Maru's housing unit for the slipstream drive, finishing the last of the connections. His head smacked painfully into the edge as he instinctively went for a gun he didn't have.

"Goddamn, mother-fucking, son of a bitch!" His legs gave out as the pain echoed though his port, biting deep. 

"Such language young man. I should wash your mouth out." Beka's tone was amused, until she stuck her head in the unit, and saw him slouched, hands laced behind his neck. "Harper? You okay?"

"Yeah," he croaked, then stronger, as blurry vision slowly resolved. "Yes."Memories dance right at the edge, grabbing at him_. Small, dark. Pain. Hold him…._ "No."

"Huh?" Beka moved a step further into the crowed space, and Harper felt his breathing spike as she blocked the only way out. "Was that a 'yes, I'm fine', or a 'no, I'm about to pass out, thank you'?"

He fought his breathing, forced a smile. "It's a 'this place is too small and I need a break, so move'." Was surprised at how steady his voice was.

Beka retreated, offering him a hand out of the housing.

He felt better once he got out and could breathe freely. He was a little dizzy, but that could just as easily be his port as the bump. "So, did you want something, Boss? Or were you just testing my reflexes?"

She frowned, then shrugged. "Both. Have to make sure you react well when surprised. How's the drive?" 

"Fine. Almost as old as your last one. " He grinned. She sneered. "But it's a nice one, went in smooth. Once the comp recognizes it, we'll be set."

"Good." She sighed, hesitating. Then spoke. "Tev has gone to bed. If we're gonna do that trace, we should do it now."

He tried to hide the wince the idea of using his port caused right now. Then nodded. "Okay."

She shifted. "Just 'okay'? You don't, uh, need anything special?"

"What? Like a solid-gold jack? A ton of trishem gems? A bowl of chocolate ice-cream?" He snorted. People always got so flustered and embarrassed the few times they couldn't avoid talking about his port. For him it was just another part of his physiology, like his fingers or toes. "No, Beka. I've got everything I need. Although the ice-cream would be nice."

She smiled slightly as she led him upstairs and into the galley. "A ton of trishem gems is equal to a bowl of chocolate ice-cream in your reality?"

"Maybe not equal… but I'm just as likely to get either." He pulled the access panel off, and slid out the board. 

"Well, I can't help you with the trishems, but I might be able to swing the ice-cream. Later."

He looked up from unwinding his connection cord, "Boss, I'm stunned. You've been holding out on me."

"A girl has to have her secrets." She watched as he plugged into the board, then lifted the jack to his port. "Does it hurt?"

"Some." He admitted, sliding the jack into place, wincing. Her eyes widened as he pushed it home, just in time to clutch at the table, panting and shuddering.

"That looked like more then some."

"It's usually not this bad. I think I've got a bit of an infection. Nothing' big." He took another deep breath and opened his eyes. She could see the pain in them. "Any orders?"

She blinked, "Uh, you know this stuff better then me. Just… if you find anything… I need proof."

"'Kay," He closed his eyes. "I'll fix the communications with the slipstream drive while I'm in. I really don't want to have to jack in again, if I don't have to."

Then he went…lax. She stared at a body that had not the slightest hint of awareness in it. 

Well, it wouldn't, would it. Harper's consciencnes was in the computer now. Freaky thought. How much of Harper's thoughts *was* the computer, now? Could he use the sensors? The weapons? The self-destruct?

Beka shuddered. 

"Harper?" She called softly to the still form. And jerked as Harper's voice came, not from the body, but from the comm system. 

"Here, Boss. Just gimme a second."

She waited nervously, sitting across the table from what was, to all intents and purposes, a breathing corpse. The was a sudden _click_ from the computer, and a deep vibration filled the ship, one Beka hadn't realized was missing until it came back. 

"Slipstream drive is back online and fully functional." Harper spoke from everywhere and nowhere.

"You're freaking me out, Kid." Beka said back, irritated, knowing he was doing it at least slightly on purpose.

"Sorry about that, Boss." He didn't sound at all sorry. "Starting the search now. Go to the monitor. I'll send all the information I'm going through there and you can keep an eye on me."

Not that he couldn't manipulate that data, from inside the system. But Beka appreciated the thought, and went to the monitor.

Information began to flash past the screen, far to fast to identify, let alone read. "Whoa! Slow down, Harper. I can't see anything."

"Oh. Sorry. I forget that I think differently in here." He did sound sheepish. And the info came slower.

"What am I looking at?" The readouts meant nothing to Beka.

"Nothin' yet." Harper's tone was distant. "I'm looking for her fingerprints."

"Oooo-kay." Beka watched as page after page of code flashed by on the screen. "Is this how it looks to you?"

"Huh?" Distracted.

"Just… code. Binary. Flat words."

"Oh… no. To me it's more… like life. Three dimensions and everything." She could hear the grin in his voice.

"Like a VR system."

"Kinda. But where you're passive in VR, I'm active."

"Okay, you lost me."

He sighed. Beka didn't know a computer voice could make that sound. "In VR you can only watch the environment the computer gives you. And maybe make some very limited choices, 'cos your not really there. That's why it's called *virtual* reality. I, on the other hand, *am* really here. Completely interactive. Right now, this, the computer, *is* my reality. Where you're at…I can't really interact much until I leave the system."

"Weird." Beka breathed, vaguely unsettled by the idea of giving up the physical world, even for just a little while.

Harper chuckled. "It's hard to get used to. But it has its good points." He was quiet for a moment, then her screen paused. "Found her. She set up a sub-sub directory. Camouflaged. Under the drivers. Tricky, tricky. Do you see it?"

Beka looked closely at the information on the screen. Scrolled down. Saw it. "My God. How did you find that?"

He chuckled again. "It feels… fuzzy. Like her. It's shedding into the surrounding programming. If we hadn't been looking we would've stumbled across it in a couple of weeks when the camouflage program started interfering with the operating system."

"Open it." Beka demanded.

"It's secured. Just a sec." 

The screen blanked, then more information spilled forth. Slipstream routes. Exact times and travel plans. Precise directions on how to follow the route Beka had created through the stellar nursery. A contract. Signed by Tev. Promising to retrieve an unspecified article from this station, in return for a payment that left Beka gasping. Amount to be paid by a Mister Keegan, upon her successful return to the station. Surprise, surprise, surprise.

"I'm gonna kill her." Beka said, still reading the contract.

"Um, there's something else, Boss." Harper's tone was hesitant as if he wasn't happy about making her more angry while she was standing in the room with his vulnerable body.

"What." It was a snarl.

"She's been in your personal files." Her screen flashed again, and she saw a copy of the 'ROCKET' document flow by.

"What is this?" Beka frowned at the screen.

"No offense, Boss, but don't you know? It was in your personal files." 

Beka shook her head confusedly, "No. I've never seen this before. I mean…my father called me that, and he left a lot of stuff on the computer, but he never left anything like this for me. The file doesn't even make any sense."

"If you didn't put it in your files, then who did?" Harper asked quietly.

"Tev." And Beka's voice was cold.

"Huh?"

"Tev. She worked on the Maru. She knew that my father called me Rocket. And she knew the Maru's computer would never allow her to upload files without my okay. But if it thought that the files were from my father…"

"She used your father's old access codes?"

"And masked the file. Labeled it so that I'd never glance at it twice. She even stuck it in the last place I'd look even if I *did* start to get suspicious. Damnit." Beka sat down heavily at the table. "I may owe you an apology, Harper. It looks like Tev has been a busy, little… Vicka." 

"Apologize later. For now explain to me why Tev downloaded a copy of this file about two hours ago."

"What? Why?" Beka demanded.

Harper's body gave a shudder, and he opened his eyes. He sat up, pulling the jack out, hissing. "Why don't we go ask her?" He said, in his own voice, a dangerously playful tone echoing in it.

~~*~~


	12. Early Days: Chapter 11

Just a reminder:

Early Days

By: Ghost

Chapter 11~ (I think?)

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't even really want to. Haven't got enough time to even play with 'em much lately.

Notes: Late late late late late with this. You can hit me. I won't even hide. Much. (But, if I told you about my life the past couple of weeks, you would feel sooo sorry for me, and maybe send me chocolate to make me feel better. Or just point and laugh and be glad it wasn't you. – and I'm betting you'd go with the second option. ::wink:: ;^)

Okay: LAME PLOT WARNING! I need honest opinions on whether this story just got as hokie as I think it did. If it's as bad as I think, I'll just drop back a few chapters and do a re-write. (which maybe I should do anyway…) So pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think. Thanks in advance.

Thanks to: Parisindy_( no, you guys are all too great to forget. Sorry about the wait.)_ Starfish_ (LOL you are? g thanks._) Krimson _(thanks g)_ Sleepy Soul (_Shall I say this was a most wonderful complement? Yes I shall. This was a most wonderful complement. Thank you. ::smile::)_ Amelia _(I'm trying g)_ Cassie _(thank you :^) ) _Becky _(g_) Stefanie Dale _(::tripping:: Oh! There's that plan. I've been looking everywhere for it! G)_ Iverson _(Thanks again. And I hope your arm has stopped hurting.)_ Spooky-Girl _(g thanks.)_ Parisindy _(I made you write 3 times?!? Argh… I'm so ashamed. But happy. And sorry…)_ Moonstruck Em _(Thanks. I'm trying g_) and Raven (_Thanks. I must admit, I like the whole idea of the port. Instant escape g)_

:::NOTE::: Okay, rewrite the second! Again sorry about the wait. Dealing with a slight case of pneumonia. Back among the living now… I think. And the REAL notes will start on the next chapter. Thanks to everyone who kept writing reviews… and to me! It was great! And just so you know…I have alreay started on the next chapter. So it shouldn't be too long in coming. 

You guys have been so patient, and I really am sorry this isn't coming quicker. Really, the encouragement means a lot to me. ::smile:: Thanks.

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

______________________________________________________________________________________

~~*~~

Tev wasn't in engine room. Or in her berth. Or in the galley. After the brief search, Beka's temper was fried. And the Gauss was once again riding on her hip. Twice she had armed herself this voyage. Twice she had felt the need to carry weapons on her own ship, among her own crew. She felt like she had slipped back in time, and was just another hand on her father's run, surrounded by 'friends' and 'uncles' she couldn't trust even with her cabin door locked at night.

Damn them both for making her feel this way. 

Irrational? That anger? Yeah, maybe. But it was there none the less. Every time she thought she had moved on, put it behind her, something decided to rub her nose in it. 

She headed back toward the showers, thinking that maybe Tev had wanted to clean up after her nap. 

Came across the weapons locker on the way. The *open* weapons locker. The one Beka had locked herself, and checked at least twice a week. The one that was now missing a pulse-pistol. Shit, shit, shit.

She activated the comm. "Harper?" her voice was steady, betraying none of her seething emotions. "Have you seen Tev?"

Harper responded from the engine room, where Beka had left him working, telling him to stay out of her way while she dealt with Tev. His voice sounding tight, worried. "Uh, not…lately. Something I should know, Boss?"

She knew he was asking if they'd had a fight. If he should be looking for cover. Or maybe, some dark, inner-voice hissed, *he's* the one who popped the locker and he's worried that you've found out. He's the one that you *know* has connections to the family. He could be turning you against Tev just to make it easier to play both of you. 

Or she could just be jumping at shadows. After all, the file was under her old nickname. A name only someone who worked on the Maru could've known.

Still, her father had taught her one useful thing: Trust no one.

"Beka?" Harper, sounding nervous.

"I can't find Tev. And the weapons locker is open."

A low whistle. She could hear him moving. Wondered what he was doing. "She's armed?"

"Apparently. And she's disappeared." Tev was a member of a predatory species. She could hunt, hide, and stalk like nobody's business. And she probably had a gun. This just got better and better. "Where the hell are you?" Beka muttered, glaring at the empty slot in the locker.

"Beka…?" Harper said, "one of the EVU's is missing."

"She left the ship?" Beka frowned, already heading for the airlock. "Why the hell would she sneak back on the station?"

"Better question might be *what* does she want on the station?" 

"I'm getting sick of this game," she snapped. Then to Harper, because she didn't dare leave him here alone and in control of the Maru, "Gear up. We're gonna find out.

~~*~~

Tev had left a trail a blind man could follow in the dust. Not a good sign when dealing with a predator.

"Not worrying about covering her tracks much, huh?" Harper's voice crackled over the comm system linking their helmets.

"I don't think she expected to be followed." Beka's eyes scanned the dark hall, and the almost invisible recesses. 

"Either that," Harper said, shining his light down yet another anonymous hall, "or she was hoping she would be."

Beka stiffened, then forced herself to relax. "What. You're thinking ambush?"

"I don't know…maybe." He shrugged, hands moving toward his tool-belt. The same way she would've reached for the comfort of her gun, Beka noted. "It's just…my spider-sense is tingling." Harper finished, his breathing coming slightly faster in her ear.

"Spider-sense?" She asked flatly. She was getting to the point where she had almost stopped asking him about these things. The kid was never going to talk like a normal person.

"Never mind. But something is…weird about this."

"That, I agree with." This whole trip had been weird. 

The walked through the silent halls, following Tev's trail. Deeper into the core of the station than they had been before.

"She seems to know where she's going." Harper said.

Beka nodded.

"Where's she going?" Harper asked.

Beka shook her head.

"Super." Harper's eyes darted nervously through the halls again. "How far back to the Maru now?"

"Too damned far." Beka sighed.

"Thought so." 

Beka reached out and stopped Harper with a light touch. In front of them, Tev's trail turned and led to a door.

She rubbed the now familiar plaque next to the door clean. _Level 26 –Black –Research and Development_

Harper actually perked up some. "Cool. This should be interesting."

"Keep your mind on the business at hand, Einstein." She opened the door, looking for any sign of Tev. Finding none she slipped inside, Harper right behind her.

It was obvious that Tev had been here. But she hadn't been the only one. Most of the random debris had been collected and shoved into a corner—but long enough ago that it was covered in a heavy blanket of dust. Two long tables had been turned into workbenches, cluttered with old prints, flexies, and bits of machinery. It was here that Tev had obviously worked. The papers and flexies had been shuffled about and the second table had been cleared with a shove to make room for a portable computer and accesses.

"I thought you said we would be the first in this station in three hundred years." Harper stepped carefully over something on the floor.

"I thought we were." Beka muttered, kicking something else.

"Well, *somebody's* been here. And I ain't just talkin' about the dust-bunnies." 

"Keegan said that one of his people found this place before it went into the Nursery, right? So whoever it was must've explored it. Hell, they probably did some raiding. I would've." 

"Beka, you *are* raiding this place." Harper broke in.

"See. Proves my point. No one could've resisted a little snatch and grab. That's probably how Keegan found out about it in the first place. They would've had to have pawned the goods somewhere, and Keegan owns the black-market in this section of space." Beka picked at the pile in the corner with a toe.

Harper was at the table, booting up Tev's system. "But why here? Why this bay? R and D isn't the best place to get the really pricey goods. And what does Tev have to do with all of this?"

"Well, if you'd quit asking inane questions, and get into Tev's system, we might find out," Beka left the clutter and moved to stand where she could look over Harper's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. Lets see *you* break this kinda encryption in…" the computer bleeped and opened, "under forty-five seconds." Harper grinned smugly.

She grinned too, laying a hand on his shoulder, and leaning over to see the computer better. "You never cease to frighten and amaze me."

"I'll take that as a complement, and ignore the backhand." But there was a quiet pride in his tone.

"So what was our furry little vixen up to?" 

"Hmm." Harper worked the keyboard, "She's got your file here… and she's been trying to open a document…." He typed some more, then grinned. "Got it."

She focused on the screen, and she found herself completely floored by the words flowing across the black-light of the monitor. 

An attachment, filled with random star charts, distance measures, the metric weight of chemicals, the temperature in Kelvin of stars on the other side of the galaxy. And more of such information. None of it making any sense.

"What, in all of known space…?" Beka touched the screen, as if to confirm the reality of the document. 

Harper looked at her. "That guy… the one who found this place…he found it about twenty years ago?"

"About that," Beka responded, wanting Harper to just shut-up for a minute and let her try to deal with this new information. 

"What if he found…something. Something that he didn't want to share. Not with Keegan; not with anybody. Beka, this station would have been the perfect place to hide something! Especially with it heading into the stellar nursery. *No one* could touch it until it came out…"

"And now it has, and Keegan was willing to spend on me, and on my ship, and give me an engineer, just to get here. Because I'm the only one who could get this close to a stellar nursery. All to find some file this guy left here twenty years ago? Why would the owner of the most powerful organized crime family in this section of space really have rebuilt the Maru *just* for a file full of useless junk? This doesn't make sense."

"No," Harper agreed, suddenly sounding excited, "But the notes don't either."

"Well, neither do you right now." Was anyone else getting a headache? 

"No, Beka, you don't get it. The files are an encryption! By themselves they don't make any sense, but put them together…" He was already working on the computer.

With a few key strokes, the ROCKET file and the new document began to mesh. The seemingly random numbers began to form up, to flow. 

"It's a program," Harper said. "I've never seen anything quite like this before. It's almost writing itself."

"What's it do?"

"I don't know." Harper rocked back slightly. The screen had frozen. "It needs a trigger sequence to run. Any ideas?"

"Like what?"

"A general pass code. Something that Tev would know, maybe."

She hesitated, but there was really only one thing it could be. "Move," she ordered Harper, and took his place at the keyboard. 

Then, shrugging, typed: _Treasure_.

Harper looked at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. She shrugged. "Tev always was more then a little obvious about her passwords. Rafe and I always used to use her access whenever what we were doing could get us into trouble with dad. It was the easiest to hack"

Shaking his head, Harper turned back to the computer.

The program unfolded.

The sun data and the star-charts combined, creating coordinates. The numbers slid into place, measuring off light-years and parsecs. The stations became locations. The figures became places, things, _points_… to be found, to be used. Points that marked the way.

"It's beautiful…" Beka breathed, looking on the three dimensional image with wide eyes.

"It's a…some sort of chart?" Harper asked, leaning in over her shoulder.

"It's a map." And Beka smiled.

~~*~~


	13. Early Days: Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda…If I did, the last few episodes would have been a hell of a lot different. Tribune. Tribune. Tribune.

Notes: Wow… I don't know what to say. You guys are great. I wish I could send a personal note to each of you (and I would, here, but my energy level is still pretty shallow right now). Just please know that your comments, reviews, notes and everything have meant the world to me. Thanks. It seems inadequate… but Thanks.

This may be a little off. I'm still trying to get back into their heads. Let me know?

And I'm kind of assuming "All Our Sins Remembered" didn't happen. Sorry. This wasn't meant to go all AU…but I guess that happens when writing a fic based in the show's past.

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

Just a reminder:

Early Days

By: Ghost

Chapter I don't know… too damned many? (*12*. I just checked)~

______________________________________________________________________________________

~~*~~

"A map?" Harper said, less than…impressed by the display, which so obviously had Beka floating on cloud nine.

"Yeah," she responded absently, all but petting the image on the screen. "Yes."

Harper rolled his eyes. "To what?"

"Huh?" She blinked. Well, at least he'd gotten *some* sort of reaction out of her.

"To where," Harper said, slowly and distinctly, "does this marvelous document lead, he asked wisely." 

"Uh…" Her eyebrows went up, and she half smiled at him. "To the Cappilla system?"

He wished he could put his face in his hands. He truly did. But the damned helmet was in the way. So he settled for sighing, loudly, knowing the comm would put it directly in her ear. "And what, I cringe to ask, does the map lead *to* in the Cappilla system?"

"I can answer that." 

The barking voice crackled over the helmet comms, and offered no direction. 

Still, Harper instinctively reached for a gun he hadn't actually owned for almost a year now. One which he hadn't asked Beka for a replacement lone for, because he knew she'd refuse. A move he was regretting now.

Beka pulled hers though, turning, trying to find the source of the voice. 

"Put it down, Beka." Tev growled.

Harper watched the frustration flame through Beka's eyes, but it was obvious that the Vicka had the drop on them. Reluctantly Beka pushed the safety on her pistol and set it carefully on the floor. 

"Step back." Tev barked.

Beka stepped, glaring. Harper stood still, trying *not* to attract attention, figuring that discretion really was the better part of valor at the moment.

Tev slid out of the darkness like a knife coming out of a sheath. She stood in the corner sideways from the door, on the opposite side of the table from them. She had the missing pulse-pistol in one paw, and it was aimed steadily at Beka's chest. "Well, Beka, looks like the kid was good for something after all…I couldn't get those documents to merge no mater what I tried." 

"You never have been very good with computers." Beka said, sounding disgusted with herself, with Tev, with the situation, with everything in general.

"No," Tev agreed easily, muzzle twitching, "but that doesn't make me stupid." 

"I guess not," Beka growled back. "Disloyal maybe, but not stupid."

Tev hissed, and Harper was glad she had her helmet on, because he could just imagine how much spit was flying. "What would a Valentine know about loyalty?"

"What?" Beka bristled in anger. Harper could see it in the sudden stiffness in her back and shoulders. "Tev, we've always taken care of you! Dad brought you onto the Maru when you were young enough that your mane hadn't come in yet! The Maru protected you from the Packs when they wanted you dead! She's been your home and your job. We never let you go hungry if we had anything to share, and you know it!"

Tev growled, a low, rough sound dredged up from her throat, animalistic and completely deadly. Harper shuddered and stepped back instinctively. "You want to know what I know, Beka? I know what it's like to be the jack-of-all-work for a strung out captain and a rust bucket ship. I know what it's like to live in the dark and spend my life running from the law because of what my captain hauled and my ship carried…not that I had any say in that. But I was good. I was loyal. I kept my mouth shut and my head down and got the job done. And what was my reward for that? The scraps from your table." 

Tev snorted in disgust, tossing her muzzle. "Your dear, unlamented father made a fortune from Flash. But did he send any of it our way? No. He dropped it in to his eyes. Burnt it in the pleasure drifts. You think he ever planned on sharing this with me? No. When push came to shove I was just the hired help.

"Then the bastard up and dies and leaves the Maru to you… and you take what was a fairly decent money maker and turn it into…what? What *exactly* do you do now, Beka? Other then run from the bill-collectors before you loose the Maru entirely."

"Do you think it was any different for me?" Beka snarled back. "Do you think I was happy with what dad was doing? Do you think I *like* having nothing now?"

Tev's eyes brightened. "So do something about it, Beka. I have a contract with Keegan—"

"I've seen it," Beka interrupted. "Harper found it in the computer." 

"Leave me out of this, would ya, Beka?" Harper begged as Tev's yellow gaze flicked angrily toward him.

Beka ignored him, locking eyes with Tev. "_Rocket_?"

Tev sniffled, "It worked. You never noticed it. Although I should have guessed it would've caught his attention." She glared at Harper.

"Um…I'm sorry?" He fidgeted, staring at the gun still pointed at Beka.

"How long have you had this contract with Keegan, Tev." Beka demanded, not coincidentally drawing the Vicka's attention back to herself.

Tev hesitated, then started talking, her voices shaky. "He approached me just after you left on the Temberline run. You gotta understand… we had *nothing*, Beka. There wasn't even enough money left to buy enough supplies for me to go with you on the run. For all I knew, you were never coming back for me. Keegan said…said all I'd have to do was get here. Find the other piece of the map. Make it work. I wouldn't actually be acting *against* you or the Maru. And what he offered…. If you've seen the contract then you know… there's enough for both of us, Beka." Tev's eyes warmed slightly. "We could split the money. Give Keegan the damned map, and work the Maru again. It could be just like it was before you father died, Beka. Better! We'd have enough to rule the black-market. We'd be queens!"

Beka seemed to be thinking it over. Harper fidgeted again. Beka looked at him. "And what would we do with him?"

Tev shrugged, smiling slightly as the gun shifted to center on his head. "We can't leave anyone behind who might be able to interfere." Harper's heart started thumping hard in his suddenly numb chest. "If either of you found out what I was doing I was supposed to kill both of you and take the Maru. But I like this better. I never wanted to be a captain." The pistol whined as it charged.

"No." Beka's voice was cold.

"Wh-what?" Tev's eyes flicked back to her.

"I said no. I'm not doing it."

"What do you mean, you're not doing it? I'm going to shoot you if you don't do it, Beka. You do realize that, right?"

"Yeah. I know that you sold me out to fill your pockets. I got that part, Tev. I'm still not joining you."

"You're crazy, Beka. I *will* kill you, if that what it takes." The gun moved back to her.

"Crazy, not stupid." She shot back angrily. "If you'll do it to Harper, then you'd do it to me. Hell, you've flat out said you'd do it to me. If not over this contract, then the next one. Or the next. Fuck it. And fuck you. I'm not gonna spend my life wondering if anyone's met your price yet. Just shoot me now."

Tev's eyes darted between him and Beka. "Please, Beka! Look at that contract! We could be rich beyond our dreams." Her voice, gravely as it was, held a wistful note. "It wouldn't take much, Beka. Off the kid, so no one knows. Do some jobs for Keegan. Then we're free and clear, with everything we ever wanted."

Beka hesitated. She wanted to say yes. Harper could see it in her eyes. The urge to give in, to go back to doing what she was trained to do. What she had grown up doing. His palms started to sweat, and he started trying to come up with a way to take them both down, knowing that it was hopeless and he was dead as soon as Beka agreed.

Apparently Tev could sense it too. The pistol moved back to him…and she smiled.

Then Beka spoke, and he was caught by the tired knowledge in her voice. "Didn't you learn anything from Dad, Tev? There is no 'free and clear' in the game. And no way out once you've started. Once you've made your first deal, run your first job. Then there's always another…and another. Keegan will try to shake you down. Then you'll do the same to him. You'll have to. " She looked steadily at the Vicka. "You never get rich, Tev. You never get free. It's never gonna happen."

"It doesn't have to be like that! If we combine what we know…we're the best, Beka, you know that."

"No, Tev! I won't go back to that life. Never."

Tev got very still for a moment. Then her head came up, eyes bright yellow. "That's really too bad," she sighed. "'Cos I'm never gonna be a carrion eater, Beka. I'm a predator by nature. And now you're in my way." The gun swung back toward Beka. 

Later, Harper was never sure why he did it. Maybe it was that Beka had unable to completely camouflage both the grudging respect and awkward friendship she felt for him. Maybe it was that she had just stood up for his life, tried to protect him (had anyone ever done that before? Ever?). Or, more likely, it was instinct— Beka was human and Tev was alien and he had come from a place where such things mattered. 

Or maybe he had just seen too many people die in the dark.

Whatever the reason, as Tev took aim at Beka, Harper threw himself sideways just as Tev fired. 

Hit Beka just as he felt something else hit him. Like a blast of hot air against his side. Momentum carried him downward, Beka underneath him, the blast pushing him back and to the side. Hit the ground and felt Beka shove him out of the way, grabbing for the Gauss she had dropped, what seemed like hours ago. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The shot had knocked the wind out of him, and his chest muscles locked up so he couldn't inhale, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He tried to stay out of her way, laying there, thinking in a muttled kind of way, _it doesn't hurt…don't they say those are the really bad ones?_—

~~*~~

Beka hit the ground already moving. Harper had bought her this chance at a high price—she had felt his body jerk as it was hit by Tev's shot—and she'd be damned if she'd waste it.

As soon as they were down she shoved Harper aside, mentally apologizing for the roughness. But there was no time to be gentle. 

Free from Harper's weight (she refused to think 'dead' weight) she kicked out at the table leg, knocking the ancient thing over and putting some cover, however flimsy, between them and their would-be killer. Snatched at the Gauss she had been careful to leave both within easy reach and fully charged. 

She took pointed the gun blindly and fired. More to scare Tev then from any hope of actually hitting the Vecka. Tev fired back. For the first time. And Beka smiled viciously. The pulse pistol had a charge rate that was slower then a dock-worker on hourly pay. The Gauss both charged faster and held a bigger clip. 

The same thing seemed to occur to Tev. She scrambled toward the door. Beka fired again and missed, as Tev's form darted into the hall.

Cursing, Beka hesitated, then turned to Harper.

"Kid? Seamus? You okay?"

~~*~~

Harper something fall, a loud clatter. Heard Beka charge her Gauss and fire. Heard Tev fire back. Less then two seconds…and a lifetime away.

--Then he pulled his first breath, and the pain hit. 

Fire and ice and nerve-endings sizzled, raw and torn and bleeding. Gasping, suddenly not able to get enough air, Harper curled around his torn side. Or tried to, but couldn't get his body to move that way, yet. 

The Beka was tugging at him, pulling him up, leaning him against something.

"Kid? Seamus? You okay?" Beka's voice. Shaky, and rough, and entirely welcome.

Stupid question, though. He'd been shot. Of course he wasn't okay.

But he did feel better, straightened out and setting up. More or less. The pain had come down a few notches, and he was breathing easier. It still hurt, but it was better than nothing.

He nodded at Beka, and pushed away the hands that were digging at his torn EVU. "Tev?" He asked, fighting the urge to cough.

"Gone." Beka snapped. "Ran when I got the Gauss."

Gone? Gone where? Where was there to go…? He gasped and Beka stiffened. "The Maru. Beka…"

"She's gone to try and take the Maru." Beka bit her lip. "It's the only way off this lump."

Not true. There were other ships in the hanger…but Tev probably wouldn't know how to work them, even if she could break the computer locks on them. She wasn't mechanically inclined. And to Beka the Maru was the *only* ship. 

"Go." He said.

She hesitated. He was touched. Her ship was on the line and she hesitated over him. "You'll be okay?"

"Beka, It's just a flesh wound, Boss. Go." He was panting by the end of that, which suggested it was a bit more then a manly flesh wound, as did the blood he could feel soaking his shirt under the EVU, warm and cool and sticky. 

But she didn't need to know that. She needed to go find Tev…before Tev got to the Maru and set herself up, blocking the way out, so that neither of them would ever get off of this station.

Beka frowned. Then carded a hand through his short, spiky hair. "I'll be back."

He nodded. "I know." And was surprised by the honesty of that. He really wasn't afraid that she would ditch him. Just leave him here to die. Was that …trust?

She nodded back, and checking the charge on her gun, slid around the table and into the dark. 

He waited until she was out of the room, then reached up and popped the seals on his helmet. There wasn't even any hint of a pressurized hiss. He snorted. Good thing this station still had an atmosphere… or he would've been dead the moment Tev's shot had ripped a hole in his EVU.

He pulled the heavy helmet off with shaky hands, and just let it drop. Regretted it when it stirred up the dust, and he breathed in the former residents. He coughed heavily, the barking seizures pulling at his bleeding side and leaving him in agony. 

And, to add insult to injury, his arm hurt.

Eventually the coughing tapered off though, and he relaxed as the pain in his side and chest subsided to its former level. He spent the next couple of minutes telling himself that the blood on his hands had come from his side, and he couldn't *really* taste copper in his throat. Really.

When he could move again, he half crawled over to the wall, moving slowly, trying not to stir up the heavy dust, or his side. Using the smooth wall to stand, he felt his way around the room, looking for…ah. Access panel. 

He pulled the cover off, and found a jack. A quick modification and he was ready. He pulled his connection cable from his tool belt and jacked into the station's computer, ignoring the red agony of his port… and his side and his arm. Never feeling his damaged, exhausted body hit the floor.

It felt good to let that all go.

And it was time Beka and Tev learned *exactly* what he could do.

~~*~~


	14. Early Days: Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda…Tribune Entertainment does. I'm making no money. Wash, rinse. Repeat. 

Notes: Is this fic ever gonna end?!? LOL. I know, I know…it would end if I'd just finish it. ::sigh:: But I've got about a billon other plotbunnies demanding attention. It's very noisy in my head right now. g

Thanks to everybody. It's been a long time to stick with this. Thanks.

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

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~~*~~

The hiss/click of her re-breather was far too loud in her ears. The mechanical rasp overwhelmed her as she tried to hear around it. Listening for sounds outside of the comm. Outside of the artificial environment the EVU created. 

Hearing stolen by the EVU. Smell as well, since the only odor she could pick up now was the slightly stale sent of her own nervous sweat. Taste limited to the slight, salt tang of that sweat as she licked nervously at her lips. Touch muffled by the boots and gloves. Sight all but useless, eyes straining against the darkness of the dead station's halls and access ways. Trying desperately to make out the shifts and variations in the shadows around her. Back pushed against the wall, sliding down the halls ever deeper into that inky blackness, wondering-- not *if* Tev could see better then her, she could, it was a given—but just how *much* better Tev could see through the dust and dark. 

Breathing got even louder as her adrenaline surged and a weird, almost claustrophobic panic started to nibble at her with rodent teeth. Heart-rate spiked as she just *knew* Tev was out there, impossibly near and utterly still. Just standing in the dark, hiding in plain sight, yellow eyes watching as Beka stumbled ever closer, pulse pistol charged and ready, and Beka couldn't even turn on the goddamned flashlight to check, 'cos if Tev *was* that close she would see it and pinpoint Beka's location.... 

Stop it, stop it, stop it! 

Panting, Beka stopped. Just stopped; leaning against the wall, spending a few precious seconds bringing her breathing, emotions and imagination back under control. 

This was the reaction Tev would want. The reaction of an insecure girl. The self-doubting child she had been on her father's ship. The flighty girl who had been Tev's tag-a-long. Well, not anymore. When she had told Tev she wouldn't be forced back into that life, she had meant it. She was done with the running and the hiding and with letting others force her into situations and decisions. She was done with reacting and not thinking. With settling for what others offered her. Now she was in control; in control of her own life, of her ship, and of her self. And neither Tev, nor her oh-so-generous-contract, was going to take that from her. Any of it. Ever. 

Taking a deep breath, and hoping Harper had been right about the oxygen level on the station, Beka reached up and pulled the seals on her helmet. A slow hiss, and her ears popped, adjusting to the lighter pressure. She pulled the helmet off—back to front, always expose your face and eyes last, a childhood's training—and the universe rushed in. 

The air was dry, and smelled like a dry matter-dump tank. Not really bad—just mealy and moldy and… flat. Dead and stagnate. Not pleasant in any way, but she wasn't going to gag over it. It coated her tongue and the back of her throat. She could feel/taste the greasy dust in it. Again, not pleasant, but she could deal. 

And she could hear. The rumble of the ancient air-system, still processing and creating a suitable living environment for the station's long dead occupants. The slight whistle as that "fresh" air swept through the dark, still halls. The rhythmic *_shaa-chink_* of the AG as it mindlessly rotated, catching on something after each turn. 

And…and a noise. What might have been the soft, almost scrape of a careless foot somewhere in front of her. And above? 

Beka's eyes narrowed as she quickly, quietly, set her helmet on the deck-plate, freeing her hands. Gun coming up, back still pressed against the safety offered by the smooth, cold wall, she started forward again. Her eyes still weren't providing much information, but her ears and her nose could make up for that a bit. 

If that *was* Tev up there, it was time to end this. 

~~*~~ 

_Still. Quiet. Sleeping. Waiting._

A nudge. 

_…Waiting. Wanting; in the dim way that a fixed equation 'wants' an answer. Expecting._

A jolt. 

_…A hesitation. A sensation. Movement. Rejected. Not feasible. Input denied._

A bolt. 

_The snap-fizz of energy. Batteries accessed for the first time since the shut-down procedures were activated. Programming that has lain dormant since that time begins to function. Something flickers along the edges, summoning the operating systems, pecking at the access routers, pushing at the core. _

Slowly…agonizingly slowly…the energy works its way into the core. Sparks in the kernel. Something clicks over. It takes forever. It happens in less then two full seconds. 

Hephaestus Station wakes up. 

~~*~~ 

It was paradise. 

But, like all the great myths say it is in the beginning, it was dark. Sleeping. Waiting. 

That was okay. He was wide awake. Sharp. Ready. He had left behind him not only the pain, but also the shock, and the lingering fever, and the fogginess of blood-loss. In its place was a strange sort of euphoria, a distant kind of joy. This was his element, and now, here, he was the Harper, and he was ready to make this system dance. 

The data-stream flowed only sluggishly. The computer wasn't fully _there_. Most of it lay dormant. The only parts active are the old, mindless life-support systems. 

That was okay. That was fine. He could work with that. 

He worked his way into the flow, trying to push the active sections outward. Fighting the disorientation, the vertigo, that pulled at him when he 'misstepped' and stumbled into a section that just wasn't there yet. He worked quickly, forcing the computer to comeback from its long hibernation. 

When it happened, it was almost a shock. 

One moment, he was 'standing' alone in the darkness, in the nothingness of a dead system, struggling to re-open the power-feeds. The next… 

The next, he was slammed sideways, as the central core flashed into operation, pushing him aside in order to pull massive amounts of power down the very paths he had just re-activated. The system began gulping power like a drowning man goes after air. 

Around him the system came back on-line. Black nothingness replaced in a flash by the long, intricate patterns of delicate, active, circuitry—glowing ever brighter as it regained power. Shifting designs of long stored memory danced around him. Access routes glowed golden in the grid-work of common functions. 

Paradise awoke. 

Maybe not as perfect as an actual AI would've been, but it was way, way beyond anything he had worked with to this point. And no matter how he dreamed of being in one of *those* legendary systems someday, if the station had been an AI he couldn't do what he was going to do—an AI would never give him the amount of control he was going to have over this station. 

Harper all but purred, feeling the system come alive around him, becoming active at his touch. Then he jacked into the command-com and felt the computer focus on him. His awareness spiraled outward as he tapped into the sensor arrays; it was dangerous. He had heard of people who lost their minds from the full data flow required to access a sensor bank. He had heard of 'ports overheating and frying the users gray-matter. But he wasn't too worried. After all, there wasn't much left of his body to go back to. 

So he tapped in…and felt his perceptions change, expanding beyond the small section of the computer system he was in, and into the station. He was aware of the clogged filters in the air-recycling unit. Aware of the navigation systems trying to find out where the station was. Aware of the movement of Beka and of Tev as they stalked each other in the halls. 

He brought the internal defenses on-line. 

As far as he was concerned, Tev was toast. 

~~*~~ 


	15. Early Days: Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda…Tribune Entertainment does. In fact, I don't own this fic. All the wonderful people (who may be just a bit mad) who keep sending me letters and requests and who still want to read this long, far to randomly updated thing, do. 

This is for all you reviewers and letter writers and silent readers. Thanks, and I'm sorry it's taking so long. 

Notes: If you really want to hear me whine… I'm putting it at the bottom of the chapter. My only top note is: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll try to do better (and be quicker) from now on.

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

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    ~~*~~
    Beka heard it again; the shuffle of a footstep. Definitely above…and way too close. 

How the hell do you get above in a hallway?

And then she felt it. The slight breeze from the life-support systems. And she knew. The ducts-- which were artfully hidden by a false wall panel-- were catching the sounds, twisting them—throwing them like the stream threw ships. 

So Tev could still be anywhere. Unless… Baka held the charged gun ready and waited. Tev was fidgety. It was why she hadn't gone into mercenary work with the rest of her pack. Beka could figure how the ducts ran. If Tev were to make just one more sound, maybe she could track it—not where the ducts made it sound like it came from, but the general area it originated from. All she had to do was wait.

And wait.

And wait.

She sighed.

__

Snick. 

A clumsy claw against the decking?

Beka's eyes narrowed as she used the sound to visualize Tev's placement in the dark hall. Part a streamers' instinct, part awareness of how Tev moved. She raised the Gauss. "Come out, come out, where ever you are," she sang softly, then fired twice into the dark. She wasn't expecting to hit, but she wanted to end this chase and drive Tev into the open.

There was a whine as the first shot ricocheted, then a hollow *thunk* as the second punched through the façade and into the vent. A not-so-muttered curse—in Vickan, so it sounded like nothing so much as someone gargling with gravel—and Beka could clearly hear Tev moving through the hall as fast as the darkness would allow. 

"My, my, my. Tev! Such language for a lady to use." Beka fought down a chuckle. Pressed against the cold wall, offering as small a target as she could manage, she felt the familiar euphoria fill her. A vicious joy as her earlier fear mutated into excitement. The thrill of the fight. The love of a dirty challenge. Her father's gift in that. Maybe the only one she truly valued.

"Fuck you, Beka." Tev's voice echoed oddly through the dark.

This time Beka did laugh. "I'll pass, thanks. But maybe I can arrange something with Harper. He seems to like you. Or at least he did, till you shot him."

A pistol blast sang against the decking a few feet to her left. Beka couldn't help the flinch. 

"Not my fault! I was aiming at you!" Tev snarled, and Beka could hear her moving closer. Did that mean Tev could see her? Or was the Vicka just heading toward the sound of her voice?

"Yeah, and doing just about as well as you are now," Beka's tone was purposefully light. Teasing. Taunting. Trying to keep Tev moving, trying to keep her from stopping to think out her next move, keep her from realizing just how much of an advantage she had in this darkness until she had already lost it. 

"Give me time, I'll get it right." The menace couldn't be missed. She listened as Tev came a cautious few feet further down the hall.

"Time," Beka said. "Well you never could work under pressure. You always clutched. Fucked it up. That's why dad never gave you the important work."

An angry snarl and another shot sizzled into the wall next to Beka's head, close enough that she could smell the ozone. Could Tev see her? Had she been spotted? Fuck. Beka knew she had to end this *now*, push Tev into coming closer, where Beka could see her too. 

"Another miss, Lady Predator," Beka teased, as she slid quietly along the wall. "Would you like some help? Seems like you need it. Of course, you never did do well on your own. You always needed *someone* around to keep you going, even if it was just me tagging along. Must be some sort of left-over pack mentality. I should've known when I left you at the station alone that you'd hook up with the first being to offer you a place in the pecking order, no matter what the price.

"That *is* why dad liked you—you sold yourself cheep."

This time she got a cat-like scream. Then the pistol whined again, the shot so close that it burned through the sleeve of her EVU, opening a hot, narrow gash on her upper arm. "Guess she *can* see me," Beka hissed, dropping down and moving away from the wall. Her heart thudded, her nerves thrumming like she was hooked into the stream. And she rode that feeling, using it to make herself sharper, faster. 

Raising the Gauss, glad Tev's shot had hit her off arm, Beka stepped firmly into the center of the hall and squeezed off three shots, using their light to see… if she could get just a glimpse, just a *hint*….

There! A shadow flinched against the wall. A shadow that had a muzzle. Beka aimed and shot.

But Tev was already moving, and Beka's shot went wide, striking the wall where Tev's head had been a fraction of a second before. Growling, Tev raised the pulse-pistol and pulled the trigger— only to have the pistol _snick_ as it dry-fired, the charge only half- built in the chamber. Tev snarled.

Beka had immediately re-sighted the vaguely visible form she knew was Tev, but before she could get a shot off Tev roared and surged forward, slamming into Beka, knocking driving her into the metal deck, Tev's considerable weight on top. Beka's head smacked into the floor and her gun fell from loose fingers. Thick, greasy dust exploded on impact, a small mushroom cloud swamping them both, clogging Beka's mouth, throat and lungs and blinding her as her eyes instantly filled with tears. 

A face full of ash and unable to breathe, Beka lashed blindly out at Tev, bracing her feet against her midriff and kicking the far heavier Vicka off. Tev rolled, hissing, and smoothly found her feet, one arm held tightly against her belly, the other clutching the pulse-pistol, now charged and ready to fire.

"Say goodnight, *Boss*," Tev sneered, pointing the pistol almost point-blank at Beka's head.

Beka stared at the bore of the pistol, watching as Tev's stubby finger pulled tighter, knowing—knowing—she was facing her own death. And there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it. 

~~*~~

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NOTES:

Supplemental

  
It's been a hell of a few months for me. Two new jobs, getting into a Grad program… then withdrawing, and finding out that my brother's getting married and my father's loosing his job are only a few of the things that have come up. I'm not making excuses for how slow this chapter came (or, well, I *am*, but I know you guys all except them and have no problem with the wait. ::ducking the rocks::). 

Anyway, by the time I could get back to the fic, I had a sight problem. You see, Tev was never supposed to be a bad guy. In fact, the scene that started this whole thing—not the Harper flashback stuff, but the Beka stuff—was sorta centered, in my mind, around a scene about Beka and the alien who would become Tev. A fairly kind, gentle scene. 

When Tev went all evil I was shocked. I was willing to see where it went, but it kind of threw my whole plot out the window.

Anyway, because Tev was never supposed to be a bad guy, she and Beka were never supposed to fight. Which meant that when I had to finally write a knockdown-dragout between them…I got blocked. Not huge…just enough to really slow me down. See in my head Tev and Beka still have to get to *that* scene… the one that started this whole damned thing. Which can't happen with Tev as the bad guy. Ergh.

So I must have written this chapter about fifteen times (I'm not kidding)—none of which worked. I'm not too happy with this version, but if I don't keep going I'm never going to be able to finish this. So.. here it is. Short (sorry) and ending in an awkward place… but if I try to finish the fight, I'll end up rewriting it AGAIN.

I'll try to be faster with the next part…like less then three days faster.

Thanks for your patience. And your notes. And your interest. You guys have kept this going—kept *my* interest in it when I would have scraped it. 'Thank you' seems too little… but: Thank you.

Ghost~


	16. Early Days: Chapter 15

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To Recap: This is _Early Days_ an Andromeda fanfic by Ghost4; the hack formerly known as Ghost.

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, for fun only. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Notes: **I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!** Whoot! And, yeah! Heh. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can work on other stuff guilt free. Heh.

~Thanks to everyone. If you're still here you have a patients of…of a really patient, forgiving person. Thanks.~

Wanta throw rotten tomatoes? Feedback is welcome.

:: retreating to sit in a corner.::

  


~~*~~

Harper had set up a simple override that would end the cat fight going on in the halls. Simple and quick. 

Part one: turn on the lights. Even the playing field for Beka. Maybe lean it a little in her direction for awhile. He triggered the station's day cycle, telling the chronometer it was noon. 

Every functioning light in the station came on full blast.

Hey, living in close proximity to Nietzscheans taught you all the little ways to fuck with people with enhanced senses.

It would be easy enough to end the fight. Easier still to end the Vecka. He began setting up the system to do just that when...

_Yank_. He felt the pull on his awareness. A secondary pull... as if someone were trying to access the system. He reached out to the sensors and looked...

And saw a slipstream closing off of the port docking ring. A ship, huge and well armed, heading straight for the bays. "Who invited these guys," he mused out loud...but it was a stupid question. He knew who.

He could already feel them working on the computer systems, locking the station down, taking control. He might be able to stop them. 'Might' being the operative word. But if he tried they would know he was here....

Figuring discretion as the better part of valor right now, Harper pulled back into the system, hiding his tracks as he went. 

He could slow 'em down. Maybe do 'em some damage too. 

But right now Beka needed to know they weren't alone anymore.

~~*~~

Beka knelt in the dust waiting for Tev to pull the trigger, waiting for death to find her in a sudden, bright flash.

Waiting an instant... that took just about forever.

But when the flash came it was bigger then a pistol shot. Big enough to fill the whole room, dazzling eyes fully dilated for the darkness, causing them to water painfully. Tev howled.

It took Beka a second to decide she wasn't dead... and to figure out just what the hell was going on.

The lights had come on. *Full* on - solid and strong and wonderfully, *painfully*, bright. 

If Beka's eyes stung, how much worse would the pain be for Tev, whose pupils could expand so much wider then Beka's? 

And, yes, Tev had twisted instinctively, dropping her head and covering her eyes with one thick fingered hand. 

Not one to waste an opportunity Beka moved, throwing herself sideways and scrambling for her feet in the puff of dust the movement dredged up. 

Just in time, as Tev shot blindly at the spot Beka had been kneeling in just a fraction of a second before. 

"Too late," Beka snarled, lurching into the Vecka and with one hand knocking the pistol out of her stubby grip before the new charge could even start to build. In her other hand Beka held the heavy flashlight from her belt. Beka swung it, hard, bashing it into the faceplate of Tev's helmet, shattering the visor inward. Tev screamed in pain and shock, staggering backwards. Dropping the flashlight, Beka wrapped both hands in Tev's EVU and shoved against Tev's broad shoulders with all her strength, kicking at her knee at the same time. All ready off balance, Tev fell backwards and Beka let her weight follow, pinning Tev to the floor under her in the ash. Beka held her breath as the dust once again exploded on their impact.

Tev wasn't that smart. Gasping as soon as she hit, Tev sucked in the former residents and choked. Beka grunted as Tev's body heaved and planted a knee in the Vecka's sternum. "Tastes pretty good, doesn't it?" She asked, jaw clenched, struggling to keep Tev on the ground.

Tev made a noise like a trapped cat and bucked, twisting under Beka, grabbing her leg, twisting it and shoving her off. 

Beka went with the motion, rolling easily to her hands and knees. Her hand brushed something hard. She grabbed it instinctively. She stood slowly, raising above the fog of dust still hovering knee high, arms hanging at her side and breathing hard. Tev was also standing, pulling the tabs on her broken helmet and yanking it off, exposing raw, bloody rents in her face from the broken visor.

"That looks painful," Beka observed, only slightly vindictively.

"So does your arm," Tev shot back, glaring.

It was throbbing. Not that she'd ever admit that to Tev. "So, was it worth it?" she asked, her tone more curious then angry. "Betraying me? Betraying the Maru? Shooting Harper, who never did a thing to you? Was it worth it?"

"Worth what Keegan's gonna pay me?" Tev's muzzle twitched. "Dumb question, Beka. Of course it's worth it. Hell, at this point I'd do it for free."

Beka sighed. "I'm actually sorry you said that. I really didn't want to have to kill you." She lifted her hand above the dust, raising the gun she had picked up. She shrugged. "Not that I won't."

Beka pulled the trigger.

__

Click.

Beka blinked. "Well, fuck." It was Tev's pulse-pistol... and it was jammed. 

Beka barely had time to throw it before Tev pounced.

The Vecka rushed Beka and pushed her backwards. Beka cried out as she slammed into the wall, Tev pinning her against it, her feet dangling above the decking. Beka clawed at the arms pushed into her throat. Sharp slivers of Tev's ruined visor, caught in the fabric of the Vecka's EVU, sliced her fingers. Gasping for air, Beka realized dimly that Tev's tooth-filled muzzle, now only inches from her unprotected face, had just become a serious problem. 

"Since you went after my eyes, I guess turn about is fair play." Tev smiled, and for the first time Beka could tell it *was* a smile ...it wasn't in her mouth but in the set of her eyes, the way the edges turned and the dangerous light behind them. "I wonder how you taste?"

Beka tried to kick, but couldn't get Tev anywhere where but her thigh. Tried to buck, but couldn't get enough traction to actually move. She was fighting for every burning, dusty breath, and all she could do was flinch back as Tev snarled, snapping at her face. 

She wondered how painful getting mauled was--

"Ladies, ladies. No need to fight, there's enough of the Harper to go around." 

The voice was fast and slightly slurred, and came from nowhere and everywhere. 

"Harper?" Tev asked, startled. She had never seen Harper jack into the computer, Beka realized. 

"Present. In the not-really-there, non-flesh, sense of the word of course." The words were right, but he sounded tired, stressed...pulled somehow, as if he was only giving a fraction of his attention to the conversation. 

Tev's hold on Beka's throat loosened as her eyes widened and she looked around for the source of the voice. "Harper? But...I killed you!"

"Ghost in the machine, baby."

He really, really didn't sound too good to Beka. Hollow and worn and tired. But it was also the sweetest voice she had ever heard, especially if he could keep distracting Tev.

"Wh-what? You.... Your 'port. You're in the computer," the last came out as a growl.

"Wow. Look, it *can* think." 

A low rumble from Tev's throat. "It can bite too. Can you see from where you're at? I'd hate for you to miss Beka's big exit." The arm at Beka's throat tensed again, but Tev's eyes were everywhere except her captive, looking for the source of the new threat. Hunter's instinct. Beka had slowly, ever, ever so slowly, slipped one hand up that arm...and toward a shard of Tev's shattered visor that was caught in Tev's sleeve, just under her elbow.

Now Beka pulled the long, narrow shard free and slashed in one fast jerk of her arm. The makeshift blade was small, but wickedly sharp. It cut through Tev's fur and hide, opening a long, bloody rent across her lip and over her muzzle. 

Tev shrieked, stumbling back, paws clutching at her ruined face, her lip gapping open wide enough to reveal the bloody jaw structure beneath. Beka regained her balance and moved toward her, shard ready, fully prepared to drive the short blade into the bitch's lying throat. As many times as necessary.

"Beka," Harper's voice sounded again through the hall, tired and serious.

"Shut up, Harper," Beka was far gone into a want, a *need*, for Tev's blood. Preferably decorating the hall. Hell yes, Tev was gonna die. Hopefully very slowly.

Tev was growling at her from the other side of the hall, her body tense, her eye bright with predatory fury. Her fingers flexed, as if sinking into Beka's face instead of holding her own together.

"Hey, Boss? We have a slight problem brewing." The computer-created voice whined and popped on the last word.

"I'm aware of that fact and am about to implement the solution, Beka gri"nned. 

Tev's eyes glittered. "Try," she hissed, the word wet and thick because the ruined mouth interfered with her annunciation. She was slinking a little, moving slowly down the hall.

"Oh, Tev," Beka said, almost sympathetically, "I'll do a lot better then just _try_."

"Uh, no, Beka. See on the scale of disasters she ranks about a three at this point...no, I was referring to her guests." The computer rolled the 'g' into a feedback whine. 

"Guests."

Beka could hear it now - faint indistinct pops somewhere in the endless halls: gunfire. 

"Oh yeah. A whole ship full of 'em." Harper sounded bad, tired, hurting, stressed. "I'm holdin' 'em off as best I can but-" the computer whined again.

Tev eyes and mouth widened in a way that would have been a grin... if she'd had a mouth left to grin with. She spit a wad of blood into the dust. "Finally. I've been fucking waiting for them long enough." Blood bubbled and popped, falling with her words through the gap in her mouth. 

Beka looked at her. "Who."

Tev just laughed.

~*~


	17. Early Days: Chapter 16

Early Days

Early Days

By: Ghost

Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I don't own 'em, and couldn't afford the medical bills, let alone the spare ship parts, if I did. 

Notes: This will be the last notes for this fic… which I'm sure comes as something as a relief to many who are reading :). Anyway, though this has defiantly been a long and strange trip for me… the fic is finished. I want to thank any and all who spent their time reading, and especially all those who took the time to comment in anyway. Thank you so much. I apologize for the very very very long time this has taken. As the show went down hill, so did my interest and RLjust sort of intruded. But I always wanted to finnish this up. And now I have. Heh. Also: I am officially letting go of this sort of mini-AU. You want a character? Feel free, and have fun. No strings. (this does not include the actual fic, however. The fic is still mine, all the ugly mistakes included). Lastly: I am dedicating this to those die-hard readers and very sweet people who kept prodding me, and/or encouraging me through random e-mails, even though you didn't know me. You know who you are, and I thank you for every note. 

While I am not happy with the epilogue, I couldn't quite see anything else…and I admit there was a part of me that just wanted to be done. Please forgive me for that. And if you want to write your own ending… well, I won't judge. Heh.

Again, thanks for everything. And see ya next fic.

Ghost

Reminder: this is set pre- Magog world-ship. So let's say…mid-first season. Slight spoilers for 'Harper 2.0'. 

Any feedback (good, bad, or indifferent) is more than welcome. Please…? :flutters eyelashes:

* * *

Tev made a gesture that would have been a grin… if she'd had a mouth left to grin with. "Finally. I've been fucking waiting for them long enough." Blood bubbled and popped, falling with her words through the gap in her mouth. 

Beka looked at her. "Who."

Tev just laughed.

* * *

"Who?" Beka repeated.

Tev shook her head slightly, still backing away.

"Beka," Harper called, "it's Veckans. A whole ship full of 'em."

Beka blinked and stared at Tev. Then laughed. Tev winced at the sound.

"Double crossed," Beka said. "Hell, fucking triple crossed. Tev, you clever little vecka," she shook her head, almost amused. "Does Keegan know?"

"Who do you think put me back in touch with them?" Tev asked.

* * *

Harper was busy while he chatted with Tev and Beka. The whole distract and conquer idea had opened up a brand new possibility to him. The station had been constructed in a time of relative peace in the Commonwealth, and it didn't have the internal weaponry that he would have expected. So he couldn't target Tev without taking down Beka as well. And there was no way he could stop a whole ship of veckans from boarding. Hell, the damned thing didn't even have a self-destruct. Freaking peaceniks. But there _were_ other things he could do, however.

He waited until the incoming veckans were busy breaking into the mainframe, making it just hard enough to keep their attention, and then used their own signal to work his way into their navigation systems. 

He couldn't stop them from boarding. He _could_ screw with their docking. Slow them down, hurt them badly, maybe. Spin them at just the wrong moment and slam them into the station hull. But not without damaging the station. Maybe enough that it would become unable to support life; explosions, fire, sudden and irreversible loss of oxygen. That was fine for any veckans who happened to be wandering the halls, but less than optimal with himself and Beka still onboard.

Then he got an idea. A wonderful idea. The Harper got a wonderfully horrible idea.

He ran schematics of the station, the mechanics, the docking bay. He memorized them. He waited… he let them dock, he _encouraged_ them to dock. He waited until the veckan hackers had invaded the systems, then closed and locked the programs behind them, making it just as hard to get back as to move forward. Then, as the veckans physically linked the ships, he snared the veckan's ship computer link and filled it with garbage data … clogging the data flow and slowing down any commands that the hackers could make on the station. While they began to prep for boarding, he engaged the magnetic landing locks – for both the ship and the airlock. Then he personally passworded and secured the locking mechanism. The veckans probably wouldn't even notice until it was way too late, but now, even if they stumbled across the locks, it would still take them _hours_ to disengage.

Hours they didn't know that they didn't have.

He opened his own data channels onto his their ship, and told the station that, not only was the veckan ship three times bigger than it actually was, but that it was suffering from massive damage and needed complete power support. And then he told the ship the same thing.

The hackers were looking for him. He _had_ been pretty blatant about things. But that was okay. They wouldn't find him.

He locked the data channel wide open, and secured it with every trick that he knew. He also alerted the station to an illegal boarding, adding the station's extra security to his own. That should give him a little time before they could actually get anyone on the station.

Then he sent one more command through the operating system – and with it, a whispered apology to the station. 

Regretfully he pulled back, out of the system.

Coming back to his body was like plunging through a boiling lake filled with sword-grass and blade-fish. Harper surfaced in his physical form, gasping and choking on forgotten pain and long ignored infection. He arched up, off the floor, flopping back against the wall, closing his eyes and waiting for the pain to crest and ebb. 

But instead of passing, the pain and heat just kept building and building, and he wanted to scream but couldn't make his lungs work well enough to catch his breath.

He had no idea of how long it took him to readjust to his physical body. It was like lifting up a burden that he had been carrying for far, far too long. But, eventually, he settled back into the yoke of his flesh. He opened his eyes, and could almost focus. He brought his breathing back under control. Somewhat. And he refused to cough…only because the clogged feeling in his chest was less debilitating than the pain would be.

He reached to his tool belt and patted a tiny bulge in one of his pouches, making sure it was still there. With a shaky hand he pulled out his jamming device and ran a thumb over the blinking light that showed it was still functioning. Strange that something so small could have forced him into this mess. Appropriate that it should help get him out of it.

Well, enough of this laying around crap… time to get to work.

* * *

"Who do you think put me back in touch with them?" Tev asked.

And Beka began laughing, laughing so hard, that she had to wipe tears out of her eyes. "This just gets better and better."

Tev's head twitched, her eyes wide above her ruined face. The station shuddered, a motion experienced more through the sight of the dust vibrating than anything felt. Looking down as she rubbed her eyes, Beka saw something, maybe. It shimmered in the dust like a mirage in the desert. Then faded out again as the dust settled.

"Ship's here," Beka said, somewhat breathlessly. Fighting full-out was tiring. She took a few steps away from Tev, over to the wall, angling herself toward where she had seen the shimmer. "You do realize that you've put yourself in a no-win situation, right?" Beka asked as she moved. She dropped the glass shard and braced her hands on her thighs, bending slightly to catch her breath. She chuckled again. "You are so screwed, Tev." 

Tev stepped back, shifting uneasily. "Wh-what? No," her voice was slurred and hesitant. "No," she said again, sounding stronger now, squaring her shoulders, puffing her mane. "I'm in charge. Keegan told them –"

Beka looked up at the confused veckan from her slumped position. "How do you know what Keegan told them?" Beka laughed again, shaking her head and running her hands down her legs in a quick, awkward stretch. "Ah, Tev. You _know_ that contract he gave you is too good. You _know_ the Packs have no love for you. You _know_ Keegan makes more out of this deal if you die than if you live. And you know that, having betrayed me, I can't let you live." Beka straightened up, bringing with her the Gauss. Her Gauss. That she'd spotted as the dust shifted. 

She watched Tev's eyes widen at the unexpected weapon. "And that's the last thing you'll ever know," Beka said calmly. And pulled the trigger.

This time, it worked.

The Gauss was a not tiny weapon, but still, Beka was flat out amazed at the amount of damage that the shot did to Tev's face and neck. 

She'd always carried that pistol, as much because her mother had given it to her as anything else. A good luck charm of sorts. 

But not for Tev.

Beka sighed, holstering the gun and turning her back to the body of someone who had once been a friend. 

And she walked away without looking back.


	18. Early Days: Chapter 17

* * *

"Harper!" 

Beka called out to the ship, but received no answer. She'd been trying both her comm and the ship's for a few minutes now, and was getting more and more panicked by the second. He'd sounded so _tired_. 

Around her, emergency lights flashed and a subtle, but nerve-wracking alarm sounded. The computer screens along the hall were flashing Illegal Boarding warnings. 

She triggered the comm. Again. "Harper!" 

Nothing but static. 

_R&D_ was empty, except for Harper's helmet and a puddle of blood just below a computer accesses port. The blood streaked in a rough track toward the door before the shifting dust buried it. "Harper, where the hell are you?" 

She sighed. Without his helmet Harper didn't have access to the Maru's comm. system. Damnit. Her oldest friend was a traitor, her engineer was missing, and her space station was being overrun by veckans who worked for the mob. 

She snagged the helmet, it was worth to much money to just leave, and kept moving. "One problem at a time, Valentine." 

* * *

It had taken too long. 

Harper was down to crawling by the time he left _Hangar and Engineering_. Inside, behind the now closed doors, he could just begin to hear the whine of engines building. Engines. Plural. Somewhere near – not here yet, but close – he could hear the movement of people. Also plural. 

Time to go. 

He pushed himself up, using the wall to both rise and keep steady. 

He forced himself the few steps down to the access screen. He opened a comm. line. "Hey, Boss." 

A pause. Then: "Harper! Where in the stream are you!" 

"Taking care of some business. I take it you've dealt with your own little problem?" 

"Taken care of. And, hey, more room on the Maru. _Where are you_?" 

Harper smiled a little. "This is an open line, boss. Anything you say can and will lead the furries straight to you. Or to me, which I also don't want. At least, not yet. Are you in a hall or a room?" 

There was a pause. "Hallway…" 

"Good." Harper said, and hit a button on the console, triggering his last command. He heard the pneumatic locks on the doors in the hall engage…as had every other lock on the station, except for two, including the one behind him. 

"Beka," he said again, into the open comm. "Head for home, okay." 

"And where will you be?" 

He swallowed. "I'm working that way. I'll meet you there." 

"Harper…" it was a warning growl. 

"Beka, boss, we are under a pretty narrow timeframe here, and you need to get back to home _now_." 

Another pause. "As in now?" 

And he closed his eyes, relieved by the understanding he could now hear in her voice. She didn't know what he was planning, but she now understood he was planning something. "As in now," he confirmed. He leaned his head against the wall. It was wonderfully cool against his overheated skin. He could still hear the veckans scurrying about somewhere near. He started shivering. And it _hurt_. 

"And you're on your way back, too," Beka half asked, half ordered. 

"I swear that I'm trying, boss," he said. Then swallowed. "But… if you make it back, don't wait on me." 

With that he shut down the comm. All he wanted to do was sit down. Just…drop. It was what he had been planning, to just slide down the wall and wait for the first boom. 

But he'd promised Beka that he was at least _trying_ to get back to the ship. 

"Damn it." 

Grunting with the effort, Harper pushed a hand against his side. Then he began trudging down the hall toward the ship, free hand dragging the wall to keep himself from falling over. 

He didn't make it far before he saw orange. 

He stopped, hesitated as his higher brain processed what his back brain had already recognized, and then flattened himself against the wall. Veckans. Prowling the halls in front of him. 

"I am so screwed," he muttered to the ceiling. 

He watched, still as a mouse, still has had learned to be in the camps, as veckans moved past the corridor junction singly and in pairs. Eventually, they stopped coming. And Harper began to relax. 

Too soon. A last, single veckan – a huge, bright orange guy – was straggling along, in no obvious hurry. Harper had just stepped out when the veckan stepped into the junction. It paused…and Harper froze. He was exposed, but any movement would attract it's hunters eyes. He was too injured to run…too weak to fight. He had no gun. 

It's muzzle twitched as it sniffed. 

Oh, yeah. So, so screwed. 

The muzzle swung toward him, and it spotted him, standing without cover. Dark eyes filled with amusement as lips pulled away from teeth in a gesture Harper did not confuse for a smile. 

It growled something in a language Harper had no chance of understanding. He grinned nervously, backpedaling. "Good Ubu. Sit? Stay?" 

It stalked toward him, further into his hall, limbs loose and deadly. It's paw strayed toward it's gunbelt. It growled. 

"Shit," Harper said, and push his hand tight against his side. He was going to try to run… but he honestly didn't hold out much hope for his chances. 

Just as he tensed to run and it's body tightened to give chase, the vecka suddenly jerked awkwardly back, falling gracelessly to the floor. 

Harper blinked. Blinked again. His knees started to give. 

"Oh, no you don't," Beka snarled, striding up to him, her pistol in one hand. With the other she caught his arm and kept him on his feet, forcing him to walk. "C'mon, Seamus, we gotta go." 

Harper looked down at the ball of fur and blood as they walked past. "You shot it?" 

"Yep. And that… was a him." 

"Awesome," he said, gasping, as she looped his good arm over her shoulders, taking a chuck of his weight. "Now I can say I've seen a full range of the species." 

"Nope, you haven't," Beka grunted slightly, hoisting him a bit, and paused with him against the wall, peering carefully around the corner. When it seemed clear she pulled him forward again. "Veckans have a third sex." 

"Three?" He jerked, going dizzy as a head he didn't know had dropped shot up. He staggered, pulling Beka a bit as well. She cursed, hauling him back to level. "They have three genders?" he asked. "Do they all, like, get together at the same time?" 

"How would I know?" Beka shot back, sounding irritated. "Jeeze, Harper, is this really a good topic for conversation while we run for our lives?" 

Slowly he began to realize that she was there, really there. That this wasn't some weird half-dreamed conversation he was having with himself. "You came back for me?" 

"It was on my way," she said, dropping him a wink. "More or less. Now move, and try not to make me regret it." 

And they moved, or she moved and he tried not to slow her down too much. 

She stopped suddenly, turning a quick corner and slamming him against the wall. He went with the motion, and bit his tongue rather than cry out. They stood very still while another two veckans went past, gargling to each other. 

After they passed, Beka looked at him. "Why did they just say every door on this station is locked?" 

"They're exaggerating. Not _every_ door it locked. I left two open. And since when do you speak Veckan?" The pain was fading, now. But so were his senses – the world was going a little grey at the edges. His feet and hands were numb. 

"Since I grew up on a ship with one. And I can understand it, not speak it. Human throats can't make that kinda noise. Harper, the doors?" 

They were moving again. He just realized. Huh. There was something…. 

"Oh, yeah. Beka, we gotta get to the Maru." 

"No shit, Harper. But you wanta tell me what's going on?" 

"This place is gonna be crawling with veckans in…" he broke off, only now aware that he had completely lost track of time. "Well, soon now," he finished lamely. 

"And why will the halls be crawling with veckans?" 

"Because … their ship is going to go boom?" 

"Are you asking or telling?" 

"Uh, telling?" he asked. He stumbled again, then decided that he'd cause Beka less trouble if he just closed his eyes. 

"Whoa," Beka said for some reason. "Harper. Harper! Open your eyes." 

He forced his eyes open, and locked his knees. "Oops." 

"S'okay. It's alright. We're almost there. Harper. Tell me why their ship is going to explode." 

"I…" He gasped. Panting. Damn it had gotten cold in here. "I, uh, set the station up to feed their ship power. Lots and lots of power. It's…" he coughed, and he felt it rip inside of him. Beka caught him, held him up until he could stand on his own. "It'll overload their engines," he gasped out finally. " They'll blow." 

"And the station floods with veckans." 

"For awhile." 

"For awhile? Watch your feet." 

"Until you're clear." 

She readjusted him on her shoulder. "Hush," she said, quietly. And he stilled, eyes closing – until the blast of a pistol shot snapped him briefly out of his fog, and he pushed back against the wall as Beka and a couple of veckans exchanged fire. He stayed as much out of the way and on his own feet as he could. And it didn't take long before the interlopers were toast. Blackened, orange toast. He could smell burning hair. Harper swallowed down a sudden case of nausea. 

He hissed as pain sang through him as Beka got her shoulder back under his. "Let's go." 

He started to take a deep breath, only to have his chest muscles seize up in time to keep him from experiencing true agony. "Ah, that hurts," he gasped. 

"I bet. C'mon, we're almost there." And she dragged his useless hide on. 

They had made it to the airlock with only a couple of other incidents. The ramp to the hole the Maru had cut never looked so sweet. They had just stepped onto it when a dull, distant roar sounded…and Harper stared counting. 

"One…" 

"Harper, what the hell…?" 

"Two – shut-up I'm counting." 

Beka pulled them on board. 

"Three…" Harper said, sliding down to sit on Maru's floor. Beka sprinted away. 

"Four…" 

He felt the Maru shudder as the airlock separated from the station hull. He felt the burn of launch vibration through his head, and side. 

"F-five." He said, and ignored the bright flash from the windows. 

* * *


	19. Early Days: Chapter 18

* * *

"Three," Beka repeated, sprinting toward the cockpit. She wasn't sure what Harper was counting down to, but she knew she didn't want to be attached to this station when it happened. She hit the pilot's chair and slammed her hand down on the button that would simply drop the airlock tube, rather than take the time to disengage and retract it. 

"Four." She pressed the Maru into a random fall away from the station. Held her breath as the thrusters kicked in and pushed them away. 

"Fiv-" She stopped, her eyes widening as a bright orange glow lit up the side of the station. They were close enough that the blast wave slammed into them, causing alarms to go off as heat spiked and the AG field took a buffering. 

Then it was gone. Fires don't burn in space. And the station sat there in front of her, huge and cold and like everything she'd ever wanted on a plate… and now could never have. 

She hit the ship's comm. "Harper. The veckan ship is toast. Good job on that." 

There was a lag, then: "Thanks. You better get us out of here fast as a bunny, okay?" 

He sounded so broken, so tired, that she hesitated. But it had to be said. "We can't go yet, Harper. I'm sorry, but the veckans that are on the station… they'll fly the ships in the hanger out of here. If they get off that station, they and Keegan, will have the money and the weapons to hunt us down. We're so much meat on the hoof unless we take them out." 

"First door I left open? When I locked that place down tight? Our airlock," Harper said, and he sounded so far away, so _dreamy_, that Beka winced. 

"Harper…?" 

"Second door? Hanger." 

"Great, Harper, but why…" 

"'Cos I knew, you see, that any furries that made it off the ship would need a way off the station," he rambled on, ignoring her. "They'd need a way home." 

She frowned at the comm. "Okay, kid, but we have to focus on the issue at hand _now_." 

There was a sound over the comm. It could have been a laugh, could have been a sob. "Just get us clear of the station, Beka." 

"But we have this little problem, Harper." 

Harper cursed, his voice getting weaker by the second. "I rigged the hanger door, Bek. I went into the hanger and put every freaking ship on overload… pulled the L-two recyclers on a chunk of them, too. Then I pulled the doorplate, and rigged my jammer into the door control. As soon as they find the hanger… the only door on that station that will open…as soon as they trigger the door access, the energy pulse that opens the door will block the signal on my jammer and my leash…" 

"And the leash, Tosand's bomb, goes boom," Beka said, impressed. "In a room that has been filling with leaking nuclear waste-gases, and is packed with overheating engines just looking for a spark…" 

"There is no problem, Beka," Harper said… and she could hear his pain even over the comm. "We're done here." 

"We're gone," Beka agreed, and turned the Maru, laying in a course to get them away from the doomed station. 

It was just under five minutes later when the station, the _entire_ station, blew with an understated blip on her screens. 

* * *

Harper was floating. He'd always loved the ocean, the water. The pain had retreated, flowing out with the tide. He could even hear it, feel it – the wash and pull of the water. Oh, he knew it was the throb of the engines, but he liked flying, too, so it was all good. 

He lay, cold and bleeding, just inside the airlock, and was peaceful enough. 

Eventually hands came, but they were Beka's so he didn't freak too badly. Then there was a bed, and tubes and needles. And sometimes Beka's hands. There were periods when the pain and the heat were too much, just… too much. And then there were times when there was… nothing. And he couldn't figure out which he hated more. 

And then there were other hands… and he fought, or would have, but he just had nothing left. And as those strange hands pushed against his side he tried to scream, but instead sunk into one of those periods of nothingness… and went happily this time. 

* * *

Beka watched as Harper's strained form went limp as he slid into a deep, drugged sleep. The doctor looked up at her after finish the injection. 

"You should have brought him on station where I could put him on a proper drip," the gray-haired man said, reaching into his bag. 

"He's crew, and my crew doesn't leave my ship." She couldn't tell him about the very bad people who were most likely looking for them. Couldn't explain that, even though she taken them to a system as far from Keegan's sector as she could manage quickly on the limited fuel they had left, it was still too close to Keegan's sphere of influence for it to be safe. And though Keegan couldn't yet possibly know about the destruction of the station he had paid out the nose to find, he would know within hours of either Beka or Harper showing their faces in a port. So, yeah, Harper stayed on the ship. 

Beka crossed her arms, watching carefully as the doctor first checked the kid's side, then, gently enough, turned his head to look at the 'port. "How is he?" 

"He is a mess," the man replied, pulling a flask out of his bag and taking a deep pull. "He's been bleeding internally for hours… and pumping him full of that artificial plasma helped, but it can only do so much. I'll have to do surgery in an hour or so to close him up properly. Are you sure we can't move him to my offices?" 

Beka sighed. "If you knew who might come looking for us, you wouldn't want him in your offices. The ship has a medbay for a reason. Do it here." 

The doctor rolled his eyes a little. The Maru's 'medbay' was pretty much just a cot with a few medical monitors. "His wound's infected. His dataport is infected, too – and though I'll have to run a couple of tests to confirm, I will say now that I'm pretty sure he's got some encephalitis brewing in that skull." 

"Encephalitis?" Beka asked, frowning. 

"Swelling in the brain from an infection of the cranial fluid. It's a common enough ailment in those with wetware. These implants are not good for people. Eighty-seven percent of human-type people with this kind of dataport die before they reach 60 for one reason or another," he said, pausing to take another drink from the flask. "'S'a real shame, considering the average human lifespan for healthy critters is 123." He put the flask away and pulled out another vial and loaded another injector. Shot Harper up with it. "Antivirals. Massive dose. That and the antibiotics I'm about to give him should drop that fever in about an hour. Then I can cut." 

"Will he live?" Beka asked, and was past being surprised by how concerned she was over the answer. 

The doctor shrugged. "He's young, which is in his favor. Chop most human younglings up, and so long as all the pieces are in the same room, they tend to live. That said, he's also malnourished, on the small side of human growth rates, and has evidently been mistreated for an extended period of time. That all works against him." The doctor shrugged again. "He's obviously stubborn. That's a good thing. I guess I'd give him better than even odds, depending on what I find when I open him up. That is, if you still think it's worth the cash to try." 

"Do it," Beka said, not looking away from Harper. 

"Okey-dokey," the doctor said, slapping his thighs. "You got somewhere I can wash up?" 

* * *


	20. Early Days: Chapter 19

* * *

Harper woke slowly, disorientated and unsure. He was vaguely aware he'd been sleeping, and deeply, but he was confused by the total lack of dreams. He dreamed almost constantly when he slept. But now he was surfacing from a deep, dreamless void, his body numb and heavy. 

Huh. 

He started to yawn, and his breath hitched in expected pain… but there wasn't any. A twinge, a cramp across his ribs, but _nothing_ compared to what he had unconsciously been anticipating. 

Huh. Again. 

"Harper? You awake in there?" 

He took a breath – slow but deep, and felt very brave for chancing it – and forced his eyes open. Beka was standing near the bed and sad sort of half grin on her face. "Well," she said. "About time." 

He tried to grin back. "Hey, boss," he croaked, and wished he had some water. "You look like crap." 

"Circuit, meet board," she said, paraphrasing the old cliché. 

"Mmm," he muttered, starting to close his eyes again. It wasn't so much that he was sleepy, it was more like keeping his eyes open was just too much effort. He heard Beka walk up and the slight scrap of metal against decking. His opened his eyes again, jerking his head around to find the source of the noise, which caused his head and side to spasm a bit. He hissed. 

"Easy," she said. She had brought a metal step-stool over next to the bed, and was perched on it. 

"It's just time for your meds." She picked a pre-loaded injector up from the top of the cabinet near his head. 

"What is it?" he asked, tensing as the injector neared his PIV port. 

"Nothing. Just some antivirals and antibiotics. You're infected all to hell. And a very mild pain-killer. You should be over the worst of it now." She offered it to him, but his eyes couldn't focus enough to read the label anyway, so he just shook his head a bit, closing his eyes and resigned to his own helplessness. He shuddered as he heard the hiss of the injector. 

"You okay?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he said, opening his eyes again. "Yeah. Why do I think I have you to thank for that?" 

"Turn about's fair play," she shrugged. 

"Were'd you get the drugs?" he asked, feeling them begin to kick in as all the niggling little pains that he'd had for so long he hardly noticed them anymore, began to fade. 

"Same place you got that nifty new surgical scar. We were at Scaling drift for the last couple of days. Refueled. Got some supplies. Had you seen to by an actual professional. You slept through it all." 

"Wow. I miss all the excitement." In truth he was a little dazed. He slept though the slips? Through refueling? Through freaking _surgery_? Well… of course through surgery, duh, but through the decision to _have_ surgery? "Wh--. Uh, I mean…I take it surgery was necessary?" 

"If you wanted to keep doing little things like breathing…pretty necessary, yeah." 

"Oh." Breathing was good. In that case, he guessed he didn't mind not having a say in the decision making process. "Then …thanks." 

"Ditto," she said, smiling slightly. 

He snuggled down a little in the blankets, uncomfortable with the warmth in her eyes. He cleared his throat. "We _were_ in Scaling? So where are we now?" 

Beka sighed. "In the middle of No and Where. Were sort of running dark until I can decide where to go next." She'd put the injector down and now had her arms crossed over the raised back bar of the step-stool, and she laid her chin down on her arms, still watching him seriously. 

He swallowed. 

"Harper, how old are you?" 

"What?" he said, a trickle of fear leaching down his spine. "I don't – Why?" He knew it came out as half whine, but he was having visions of her dropping him in some backwater orphanage, or with some overstressed planetary social services group, both of which were often merely fronts for slaver groups. He couldn't take that. He really couldn't. "Look, I know I'm in your way, now, so as soon as I can, I'm gone, nothing more than a memory… that you don't even have to remember if you don't want too." He started to sit up, gasping – but she took him by the shoulder and pretty much held him down with a couple of fingers. 

She sighed. "Harper, just answer the question." 

He looked everywhere but her. "Er, what was the question?" 

She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, kid." 

He looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the burning in the back of his eyes. "I don't know." And his voice was a whisper. Then he laughed, not liking the panicked note in the sound. "How old do you want me to be?" 

"Harper." 

And he could feel his stomach tighten, feel his heart speed. Felt the fear turn to anger… and welcomed it. He glared at her. "I don't know, okay! It's not like there was ever anybody around to count! So I don't fucking know!" 

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose like she had a headache. "I expected you to be quicker on the uptake, there, kiddo. But as you are feverish, drugged, and suffering from blood loss, I guess I need to cut you a little slack." She reached out and took his face in her hand, locking eyes with him. "Harper, as _captain_ of this vessel I am officially asking you, a member of my crew, for your _stated_ _age_." 

He hesitated, then it slowly sunk in. As captain, as _his_ captain, she could vouch for his stated age with any official. With her backing he could become emancipated permanently. He'd never have to fear the social services and orphanages again. He could even sit the boards and get his certifications… not that such things mattered on the fringes, but on the main shipping line having your certs could mean the difference between a couple of thrones an hour and decent pay. 

And, as an official adult human, he'd be past the grip of the Fungus and his ilk. Permanently. 

"I'm Twenty. Twenty years old," he said, looking steadily at his new captain. The age of human majority in all open space law. And who knew… he might be that age. In a couple of years. Maybe. 

She relaxed suddenly, ruffling his hair. "I figured as much. Then as a full adult I can now ask you if you would like a contracted berth, here, on the Maru." 

He hesitated. "Contracted?" 

She smiled a bit. "Yearly, at first. With renewal options if it works out. Standard ninety day clause." 

"For you?" 

"For us both. No loss." 

So, if at the end of ninety days he wanted to get gone, or she wanted him out, they would part owing each other nothing. 

He rubbed at his side, want warring with distrust. "Why?" 

She shrugged. "You know your shit. You don't panic in a fight. You can hold your own with me. And I think I can trust you at my back. That's become pretty important to me recently. And, quite frankly, I'd rather have you at my back then facing me down." 

And he couldn't quite hold back the grin. "Then, yeah. I'll sign." 

"Good," she said, her own expression lightening a bit, but still far too serious. "We'll file the paperwork when we dock." 

He shifted, almost welcoming the discomfort of his injuries as a reminder of the reality of the situation. His grin faded. What the hell had he just agreed to? "Okay…" 

"Get some rest," she said, as she started to stand, but she hesitated as Harper called to her. 

"But, Beka, where can we dock, with Keegan on our asses? What's our next move, boss?" 

She hesitated, arms crossed above her as she braced her hands on the bulkhead. She smiled, a slow vicious grin that both intrigued Harper… and made him pity whoever was on the receiving end. "Oh, I've got some plans in mind for dealing with Keegan. You just rest, and heal, because I'll be needing you soon enough." 

And Harper watched he leave, heading for the bridge. He sighed, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. He had a contracted berth, a crazy captain, no money, and a vague but incessant feeling he was about to piss off a very large, very dangerous mob family. 

Life was sweet. 

* * *


	21. Early Days: Chapter 20

* * *

Three weeks later, Beka strolled through the shopping district of a very familiar chunk of floating metal. She smiled at the clerks, winked at the street thugs, and just basically made damn sure that someone would report her presence to anyone and everyone. 

She wandered for a couple of hours, then staked out a spot in the wide square filled with cheep, fake trees and metal benches. Vixvacule's approach a few minutes later didn't surprise all that her much. 

"Vixvacule, you little backstabbing rat, how in the heavens are you?" she said brightly, leaning back in the artificial 'sunlight' and hooking her arms over the back of her bench. 

"Better than you, I feel safe to say." He was squinting at her, obviously uncomfortable with the light levels. 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yes. You see, Mr. Keegan is unhappy." 

"Is he now." 

"He is," the rat said leaning in, his musky, pelted face way too close. She could smell his rancid dinner on his breath. "And that should make you very… uneasy." 

She pulled a face, something between a grimace and a glare. Then she flicked him, hard, on his nose. He yelped, jerking his head back and covering his snout with both hands. "Damnit, woman," he hissed, his eyes watering, "that hurts!" 

"Keep your pointy little nose to yourself then." Yeah, she just bet it hurt. Night-siders had something like a billion nerve endings in their wet little snouts. 

"When Keegan hears about this on top of everything else you've done-!" 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Beka rolled her eyes. "You know what? I'm kind of sick of worrying about Keegan's state of mind. Maybe it's time he started worrying about _my_ state of mind." 

Vixvacule eyeballed her, wiggling his nose. "And why should he be concerned with you?" 

She shrugged, leaning back again. "Maybe because I found his contract – oh, and by the way, his lapdog…well, she won't be coming home. I'm afraid I had to put her down. Offer Keegan my apologies." 

Vixvacule twitched. Then swept a hand through the air as if brushing the matter aside. "You've only saved Keegan the bullet, my dear. That still won't change Keegan's position." 

She smiled a bit. "Good, then he shouldn't be all that upset when he hears that I took out all the ferrets that came to pick her up, too." 

The rat blinked, his hands falling from his face. Then shrugged. "While disappointing, your little friend sent us details of how to reach the station. We still have them. Thank you for that, by the way. I don't think many other pilots could have found a way to reach the station. Unfortunately, Keegan still has no particular use for you, I'm afraid." 

"Really?" Beka said, "Because I would have thought –" 

There was a dull _Ka-BOOM_, and the drift shook. Vixvacule, like almost everyone else on the drift, dropped, covering his head as the interior hull lit up with a bright flash that quickly decayed into the dull orange of a very large fire. Beka smiled a little, watching the lights flicked at the far side of the drift, listing to the sirens kick in. That was a little early, but still, good timing. 

Vixvacule slowly stood, blinking as the first wave of dust and smoke rolled past the district, pulled by the air-recycling systems. 

"What was that?" the rodent asked no one, blinking. Beings were running from the district, some away from the fire, some toward. 

"That," Beka offered, "was Keegan having a change of heart." 

"What?" Vixvacule demanded, wheeling toward her. 

Beka grinned. Divinity, she loved this part. "That was a certain weapons shop going boom. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but most of Keegan's influence over this sector come from his ownership and trading of Tosand's little toys. Now, if I take Tosand out of the picture, Keegan has no more supplies. And no more weapons to hold back the other families." 

"You wouldn't," Vixvacule said, looking appalled. 

"Oh, I _so_ would. Leaving Keegan holding the bag on unfinished contracts with some very nasty people. Now, he might be thinking that he'll just jot on over to the station and use the old High Guard weaponry to fulfill his obligations. But there's on small problem. I blew it up, too." 

Vixvacule looked incredulous. "What is wrong with you, human? Do you feel the need to blow up _everything_?" 

Beka cocked her head, considering. "Well, I don't know if it's so much a _need_, as much as just pure fun." 

"Keegan will kill you." The rat looked positively merry at the prospect. 

"He could try," Beka agreed. "But he might get more satisfaction from dealing with me." 

"Dealing. For what?" 

Beka chuckled. It was a fire sale, and everything must go. "I was on that station for a couple of days. While my crew was making repairs, I loaded the hold with trinkets and the computers with data. I have all sorts of things I'm willing to share…for a price." 

"And you'll deal with Keegan?" 

"Under the understanding that I'm a free agent, and that my ship and my crew are to be left alone, no grudges. Then, yeah, he can bid with the rest. If, however, any attempt is made against my ship, I will personally send all my crap to his biggest enemies and watch with glee as they eat him alive. Understood?" 

Vixvacule glared at her for a moment, and then glanced at the bright shadows of the fires. She saw his shoulders sag in his expensive jacket and knew he had acknowledged that Tosand was toast and his options were zero. He hissed. "I will take your offer to Keegan. And while I can't answer for him, I will say that he will most likely take you up on your offer." 

"Good. I'm ready for this to be over, Vixvacule." 

"As am I, Captain." Then he smiled. "And, as a personal note, I like your style. You are ruthless, driven, devious, beautiful, and clearly capable of turning a profit. If you ever decide you should need more crew, please look me up." 

Beka tried hard to smile politely and not grimace at the very idea. That would happen just about the time that Hellsport froze over. "I'll keep that in mind." 

He bowed politely enough, and finally went away. Beka just lounged for a moment, just enjoying the lack of stress. She watched the square slowly start to fill up with beings once again as people realized the fires were contained to the warehouse area. Eventually she went to a nearby shop and spent a small fortune on a couple of treats; she had the cash at the moment. She went back to her bench. 

A minute or two later Harper wandered up, full of a restless energy and a vicious gleam in his eyes. He was filthy, grease and ash smeared his face and clothing. He had dust in his hair. 

"Here," she said, and handed him the chocolate ice-cream cone. He brightened even further. 

"Ice-cream? Seriously? Real ice-cream?" 

"I owed you. Have fun?" she asked. 

He giggled manically. "Oh _so_ much. It was awesome." He started in on his ice-cream. "The Fungus was still inside. I made sure." He lapped at a drip, slurping slightly. 

"Not seeing the bad in that," she responded honestly. Of course, she had known when she set Harper the task of blowing up Tosand's warehouse that he would probably leave Tosand inside, but she hadn't ordered it. Beka figured that was Harper's decision. And Tosand's death didn't affect her plans either way. If anything, it helped – because Keegan had now lost his mastermind. "You need a shower." 

"Mmm," he agreed absently, still focused on his treat. "This is really good." 

"Yep. Ice-cream is always good after a scam." She licked a few times herself. Then: "How much do you think the stuff in the hold is really worth?" 

He shrugged. "Some of it, not much. But you got a few pieces that could bring you some ready cash." 

She nodded, it was what she expected. She hadn't had much time alone while she was on the station. Now she wished she'd picked a bit better. But, then, she hadn't known they were going to blow the station up, either. At the time, she'd thought she'd be back. "Do you think we have enough to refit the Maru?" 

"For a full refit?" He gave her an odd look. "You've got a new-ish slipstream drive. And I can help with fuel injection rates, and water recyc. To bring down your general overhead. If I get the parts used, I should be able to shave a few bucks off the budget." 

"Don't skimp." 

"Won't. It's just, I can cobble most of what you need from what you have. Unless you want new…" 

"You think you can shave enough to make some…modifications?" 

His eyes glittered. "Depends on what you want, but yeah… I should have enough to play with." 

She smiled back. "I was thinking about getting into some heavy salvage work." 

"Salvage?" 

"Yeah," she licked at her ice-cream. "What would you say if I told you that at least one of the data packages I lifted from Hephaestus was a series of information about a lost High Guard warship." 

He had forgotten about his cone. It dripped down his hand as he stared at her. "Seriously?" 

She nodded. "Including location." 

"Holy shit." 

She nodded again. "It could take us a few years to find the proper equipment, the precise location… we may have to get a few investors. But…what do you think?" 

He smiled. "I think life can be sweet," he said, and bit into his ice-cream. 

* * *


	22. Early Days: Epiloge

* * *

_Present day. _

* * *

Beka stopped in the door of the plush, airy, sun-bright room. Harper was sitting up in the bed, legs stretched out on top of the covers, wearing the soft loose clothes that all the patients here wore. He was scowling, working one of his logic puzzles wrong handed and obviously getting frustrated with himself. His smart hand, wrapped firmly in a pressure-cast, kept twitching every time he made a mark on the flexy. 

The surgery had gone well. There had been a slight infection in the tendons that had extended his stay, but that was gone now, too. She had gotten the good news from his surgeon as she arrived this morning. He was officially ready to be released. He would still need some PT, which Rommie had already decided to monitor, but he would be back, home and whole this afternoon. 

She had long since given up being concerned about the relief such news brought. 

It was strange. So many things had changed in her life since that first run with Harper… and yet, somehow, in some basic way, neither of them had really changed. Maybe that was bad. Maybe they should have changed, especially in the last few months when being on the Andromeda. The jobs were bigger, now. The worries different. The decisions seemed to be more important, more lasting. Surrounded by the remnants of a society that was so much bigger, so much stronger than anything she had ever dealt with… it sometimes seemed like she should have to change to fit. The Rev had. Trance, well, Trance seemed to have been half expecting it. And Tyr seemed to feel he had somehow found his rightful place, and would eventually take it from Dylan. But she…there were just sometimes when she felt like she was on her own. And she had to fight the urge to load up in the Maru and just get the hell out of Dodge. Not because of the danger, not even because of Dylan's over-control issues. But because she had an ever growing suspicion that people like her wouldn't be welcome in this new order that she was supposed to be helping Dylan build. And honestly, she was torn as to rather it was better to stay in the plush comfort of the High Guard ship, or to take off and quit even paying basic lip service to creating a universal order that would never have her as a member. 

And, just when she would feel the most lost, the most alone, she would run into Harper. "Beka," he would say. "Of course we wouldn't fit there…the whole Commonwealth was way too shiny for the likes of us. And even if Dylan manages to recreate his perfect utopia – which are never perfect, by the way – I'm pretty sure we will have corrupted him enough by that point that we can still move around the fringes. Maybe we can, like, manage the secret police, or something." 

"I'm pretty sure that'll be Tyr's job." 

"There ya go," he said. "Look, Beka, This new Commonwealth idea has about as much a chance of happening as the Restors have of owning shares in Pangalactic. You know that and I know that. But if, by some wild stretch of the imagination, Dylan actually manages to reestablish the Commonwealth, well, I'll be the first on the Maru so we can get the hell out of the sanity. Until then, I plan on just sitting back, taking advantage of the _unlimited_ hot water, and enjoying the ride." He hesitated, looking at her with suddenly wary eyes. "We're good, right, boss? I mean, we're clear on the fact that if you go, I go." 

"We're good." She'd say, both reassuring and reassured. 

It was a common conversation between them. That being a little rough around the edges wasn't always bad. That the gleam of 'civilization' wasn't always as bright as the love and respect between … people. 

She pulled that reassurance up now, looking at him. She could appreciate how nice his surroundings were, appreciate how the careful, clean medicine was useful; and she could clearly see how uncomfortable he was with both. 

If she ever had her doubts about whether he should come with her if she left, moments like this reassured her. 

He was one of her kind, one of her pack. He had been from the first moment she met him. He always would be.

And she was glad of it.

She stepped into the room. "Hey, Seamus." 

He looked up, and brightened. "Hey, boss. Thought you guys were gonna just take off and leave me here, it's been so long." 

She rolled her eyes. "It's been one night." 

"Yeah, but one night alone in this Stepford town is one too many." 

"I'm sorry we frightened you by leaving you all alone on this plush, expensive medical facility where you had nurses and janitorial staff to cater to your every need." She put down his shoulder bag with it's change of clothes, and pulled out a smaller, plastic bag. 

"And boy, did my nurse cater to my needs," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Beka snorted, knowing that he'd spent most of his two days here either sedated, whacked out of his mind on pain-killers, or throwing up because of a reaction to his meds. "Whatever, you stud of a man, you. Push over." 

"Don't you forget it," he said, sliding over on the bed, carefully holding his injured hand up. She joined him, stretching out on the bed next to him. She opened the bag she'd brought with her, and pulled out the container of chocolate ice-cream and two spoons. His eyes lit up. 

"Awesome! What'd I do to rate this? Am I dying? Did they give me some weird infection and I'm dying and you have to break it to me? Not that I'd mind, 'cos, you know, ice-cream." 

"Nope. Just… I was thinking of when we first met. Got nostalgic. Got a sweet-tooth. Got stupid and decided for some Devine only knows reason that I wanted to share with your grubby self." 

"You do have these odd moments of shear genius, and/or total insanity. Gimme." 

"I do have some news for you," she said, licking her spoon. 

"Oh yeah?" he sounded disinterested, trying to reach across himself with his stupid hand and spoon ice-cream. 

"Yep. You're out of here. Officially discharged. They're filling out the paperwork now." 

He looked up, and she was taken aback by the relief in his eyes. "I'm sprung? That's the best news I've had since you opened that bag." 

"What, you so excited to give up all this splendor and return to Zen and the art of ship-maintenance?" 

"I'm just… I'm ready to go home, Beka." And the truth of it was in his eyes. 

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "And home is more than ready to have you back. She's told me so at length. Now eat your ice-cream." 

He smiled. Head butted her affectionately. She hugged him in response. 

"Hey," he said suddenly, pulling away. "You know how Rommie has that that cool way she manages her plasma ejection? Feeding it back through the stabilizers before it vents?" 

"Yeah," she said hesitantly. 

"I got this idea. We could do something similar with the Maru, but, see, we'd run it through _hot_." 

She frowned. "But that would cause a mini explosion." 

"Exactly. And give you a four minute boost of speed that could beat just about any ship out there." 

"And blow up the ship," she said, taking another bite of the ice-cream. 

"Ah, but only if you just feed and feed it. If you keep it to a short burst, you could theoretically use it safely. Like nitro on a car." 

"I'm not liking the theoretically." 

"But it will only be theoretical until I prove it retical." 

"_'Retical'_?" 

"Mmm," he agreed, swallowing another bite. "Technical term. Anyway, what do you think?" 

She shook her head a little. "I think life is sweet sometimes." 

He met her eyes, and smiled with real, deep warmth. "Yeah. Yeah it is." 

And they both knew that those were the only times that really mattered. 

And they ate ice-cream and schemed and joked until the nurse came with his discharge and kicked them out. 


End file.
